Mikhail Alekseevich Kuzmi

1872 - 1936 / Russia

I Gather Motley Flowers

I gather motley flowers
And braid, braid a garland,
Sharp spears fall
At your victorious feet.

The sisters turn spindles
And spin, spin yarn.
Wild hops creep
Over fallen banners.

The cavalry flew by and vanished,
The storm thundered and hushed.
Lawlessness bore down, bore down -
Silence and light all around.

I stand in the middle of a mown field.
You stand beside me in shining armor.
I have found myself a Leader -
He is glorious and winged.

You will advance with a bold step,
Lead me into a new battle.
I will do whatever you want:
I am inseparable from you.
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