Vixit

A house watches over the tormented soul 

and a lonely grave over which anna's dream

and the cossack's  gallop  pass ...

Mound open to all winds 

that has no name,no crown .

Here lies the old Russia 

with young ever-burning branches,

silent earth  and  patience of time.

Man planted the tree under he rests .

  sap creature ,secular  trunk  ,

long summer wood ,winter burns ...

Nostalgia for bare spaciousness ,

one day war  will end 

in the new -found  peace ,

the shadows will shed their fatigue 

giving grace for salt and bread .

 Here no marble domes 

no princely  vaults 

 Clay in communion with the solitary genius.

         Leon Tolstoi .