The young and old came to a poet in a crowd,
The house is already Filled with guests.
The poet took them to the magnificent garden
That he grew up nearby his heart.
Then, so that the guests enjoy themselves,
He Filled the glasses with his songs;
This burning wine is sparkling —
It is born in the poet's heart.
Both the young, and the bearded,
Were drunk with the flame of the songs.
In the guests' hearts the cheerful beams
Of dreams that have come true are singing.
And old man stood up from the table
And he said with emotion:
— My friends!
I am very old. I am ninety years old.
But I haven't seen a better feast.
My fate sent me many troubles.
All my life I have been walking along a difficult path.
I managed to find in your garden, poet,
My lost youth.
ноября 1943