How they greeted the spring with honey,
Without a tsar, without a head,
They dipped the oars into the water,
And cast lures deep within it,
Bewildered by the blues of the sky.
I’ll go to the lake to tend the geese,
On the way, I’ll stop to save the devils.
The devils followed me like a tail,
After my big soul,
They fell into a pit where the Evil Brook flows.
The devils will become my friends,
We’ll drink wine with the earth,
We’ll howl with the baba-yagas
And geese-swans
Beneath the blood-filled moon.
And here the apple tree has fallen,
Right in my yard.
Maybe it lacked the sun,
Maybe it grew tired of standing,
Or maybe I came to it from a drinking binge with an axe in hand.