 | O garden of the night, mysterious organ, A forest of long pipes, a shelter for cellos! O night garden, sad caravan Dumb oaks and motionless firs! He rushed about and made noise all day. The oak was a battle, and the poplar was a shock. One hundred thousand leaves, like a hundred thousand bodies, Intertwined in the autumn air. Iron August in Long Boots He stood in the distance with a large plate of game. And shots rang out in the meadows, And the little bodies of a bird flashed in the air. And the garden fell silent, and the month came out suddenly, Dozens of long shadows lay down below, And crowds of lime trees raised their hands, Hiding birds under clumps of plants. O night garden, O poor night garden, O creatures that have fallen asleep for a long time! O flashed above your head Instant Star Shard Flame! 1936 |
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