Ivan Bunin. Loneliness

And the wind, and the rain, and the haze
Over a chilliness water desert.
Here life had got died until spring,
till spring gardens became desolate
I'm alone at the camp. It is gloom
Near  the easel, and  sense window draft.

Last day  you were present at  me,
But you felt only sadness with me.
At a rainy day the evening
It was seemed you are really my wife
So, adieu!  Any how till spring
I’ll live lonely -  at all chastely.

The same  clouds are going today
Endlessly - like the wave after wave.
Your trace in the rain by the porch
Washed out by water at all.
And it hurts me to look such alone
Into  grey  impenetrable gloom.


I wanted to shout after you:
"Come back home,  I got used to your face!”
There’s no past for the woman, alas:
The love end makes you stranger to her.
I will light the fireplace, I'll take load…
Would be nice to purchase me a dog.