Birds

The sad autumn without knock has entered into my city,
Birds summer what for having forced to depart to the south.
After all manumissions if slightly there is no heat,
Winged wanderers long won't suffer.

They depart also thousand miles not to calculation.
And their calls proud will pierce the sky as an arrow.
And on a part the blind melancholy will break off heart,
About that cruel gods have taken away a wing.

About, birds, are unknown to you those interdictions of borders,
That to us in this life prevent to breathe easy!
Doesn't press on you безразличье flashing persons,
You can deep freely fly in the sky!!