Nikolai Stepanovich Gumil

1886 - 1921 / Russia

The Road

I stared at the unfolding road,
Beneath the shadow of grand oaks, -
Such a familiar old road,
Surrounded by flower fence.

The evening fog starts slowly setting,
Uneasy sadness brings me tears,
When every pebble on this road
Seems so familiar and dear.

Why would I ever take the road –
It will not bring me to the place
Where air gets stifled in my throat –
The house where my beloved lives.

When she was born, her feet were strangled
They put them in the iron gyves.
And she grew up to be a stranger
To shady roads’ calling vibes.

When she was born, her heart was strangled
They put it in the iron gyves.
And she, who’s been my heart’s desire,
Will never be my dear wife.
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