Vladimir Vysotsky. The Nature Reserve.
To the wood...
To the wood —
On the sledges and on the sleighs,
As the rich as the unlucky men
Run out — to
The mysterious wood’s brake,
To the wolfs and to the bears’ dens.
Looking like the tired braves,
In two girths and even in several ones.
And there I
Chew and swallow the air —
Though behind the bars of trees — at large!