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To Valery Abramov.
It happed so that our ways-roads are laid apart:
One took the eastern road, the other — southern.
It’s so sad to see how friends depart...
It’s sudden, so sudden.
For those who’re gone, some people, really,
Care not a pence.
I judge not others, but I most sincerely
Believe in friends!
It’s a time when I’m left on my own,
The blizzard drifts the people’s souls and traces.
Everything goes wrong, no use to moan —
No friend, no complacence.
For those who’re gone, some people, really,
Care not a pence.
I judge not others, but I most sincerely
Believe in friends!
When some day my friend comes back and says,
“It was our error, let’s forget the bygones...” —
We’ll both look at these unlucky days
And smile, smile in silence.
Yes, for those who’re gone, some people, really,
Care not a pence.
I judge not others, but I most sincerely
Believe in friends!
It happed so that our ways-roads are laid apart:
One took the eastern road, the other — southern.
It’s so sad to see how friends depart...
It’s sudden, so sudden.
For those who’re gone, some people, really,
Care not a pence.
I judge not others, but I most sincerely
Believe in friends!
1968.
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