To My Father
Ровно 15 лет, как умер мой папа.
Ему посвящается мой стих.
Правда, на английском,
чтобы читал весь мир.
I would like to be again quite a little girl
To walk barefoot in rain within drops like pearl,
And to wander in the forests like in fairy-tales,
And to sing in the bird’s chorus, and to manage gales,
And to laugh with whole nature like a babbling stream,
And to set off on adventure with the brothers Grimm,
And to find magic grains, which fulfill the wills,
And to play a lot of games having friends not bills,
And to come up to the father, when the day is grey,
And he said, “Think, dear, rather, everything’s OK”.