It's Spring, I Leave A Street Where Poplars...
It's spring, I leave a street where poplars are astonished,
by Boris Pasternak
Where distance is alarmed and the house fears it may fall.
Where air is blue just like the linen bundle
A discharged patient takes from hospital,
Where dusk is empty, like a broken tale,
Abandoned by a star, without conclusion,
So that expressionless, unfathomable,
A thousand clamouring eyes are in confusion.