MUSINGS (Free translation from Russian by the author Yosef Latman)
Old tree... I look at him with a pain in heart of mine. The roots, after years, having gnarled, as hands, They seized in the ground... As a soldier in the line, The trunk, tried and tested life, is motionless... Only a breeze, playfully, as if from boredom, Sometimes shakes sleepy branches slightly... The leaves little rustle. and then, Yellows, are falling into an abyss of parting.