I'm climbing my eyes ...
Low lesions;
to me
this Silesia
climbed into the spleen.
Border.
Boredom is Polish.
Farther -
more.
From the rain
slippery
soil of Poland.
On the horizon -
white.
Snow
and Negoreloe
.
So glad
with snow
all of a sudden
see the pine.
Koneshno -
birches,
snows when hovering,
in the snow
polish
tremendous joy.
Kilometers a thousand
to Moscow
I'm torn.
Naked,
destitute
runs
Belarus.
I arrived -
descended from familiar paintings:
railway station
Belarusian-Baltic.
As if
the damned
the slogan is one:
push,
spit
Yes, hold on.
Flour directly.
To go -
special.
There -
pit,
here -
pothole.
I'm bored, my friends!
Holes -
tease.
we
and France ...
What's the difference!
But here,
working out
and looking around,
how to darn
each hole,
mockery
again
you break in two
and you stop
sniff European.
Down with
giggling bang!
On the way,
gentlemen of the lacquer!
Comrade,
come here,
from the mud
working
a life
dragging out!
1929
Disclaimer: I just found these in my library. I do not have the rights to them,
I just them and decided to share them with you.
