Sad Salix

For sad salix on lakeside,
marsh is like coolant,
at square, in park, near fountain,
lowly to windows gazes
white birch in blaze of sun.

Wind.

Carry away leaf over swarms
Morass,
eaten by shards of clay,
crying twig of birch,
and salix rippled in mirth,
brook slacks up its lapse.

Sun.

After collapse, pilled,
sad nestling doesnt sing,
yes - thats lifes thirst!

Foliage has fallen from birch,
slouched jamb of salix confident.

Its raining!

Standpoint like after die out,
like a mast jetting out from bitumen.

Stop.

Please stand mackerel sky,
let it rain stoutly
beseeching, raw birch, salix too,
along with brooklet, whisper

Help!

I need you for my life.
Stalwart naked birch,
everyone ignores the icicle in her eye,
wonder salix and icy brook,
why birch today cries.

Snowflaked,
already countryside,
in park near fountain, smug birch stands,
bleeds sap for her shame,
in forsaken, sheer lucid slop,
Lang-syne mended her wounds,
spring came in early morning
wintry flatus come off morrow;
outgrow last emblems of sorrow.

Sun drying splashy parks,
rippled leaf of birch, of beauty,
also brookle murmured in fair,
only on smooth marish, was quiet air,
except for noisy little frogs.

Psssssssst!

Everything is without movement,
birch in park to windows glaze,
sad salix on lakeside stand,
cold muscles of marsh, caress her around,
call her tender lover.

No new whiles at the foot of this town.

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