Serghey   Esenin

                        Song of Dog


                 One morning, in rye's barn,

                 Which filled with golden mats, 

                 Bitch pupped by seven brown,

                 By sevenfold red pups.



                 To evening them she licked,

                 Brushed hairs by her a tongue.

                 And snow melted leacked

                 From her warm grey a stomach.



                 By sunset, when a chicken,

                 Get house's roost to sleep,

                 Went out master frown

                 With seven pups in sack.



                 Over deep snow-drift she took,

                 Where master went, in pass...

                 But, for a long time shook

                 Not freezing water's glass.


                 
                 She hardly backed in barn,

                 By leacking sweaty sides,

                 She saw over house moon

                 Likes one her of the pups.



                 To blue sky very wept

                 She saw with whining,

                 But thin moon slowly slid

                 In field hid no shining.




                 In vague voice as from cuff

                 When stone threw with laugh,

                 The dog's eyes over slid

                 Like gold stars in snow-drift.



 
                1915


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                Translated by Vasiliy Panchenko,

                2012