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Railway Station

My dear railway station, my treasure Of meetings and partings, my friend In times of hard trials and pleasure,

Your favours have been without end.

My scarf would wrap up my whole being - The train would pull up, with deep sighs,

The muzzles of brash harpies, leering,

Would puff wet white steam in our eyes.

I'd sit at your side for a moment - A hug and a kiss, brief and rough.

Farewell then, my joy and my torment.

I'm going, conductor,

I'm off!

And, shunting bad weather and sleepers,

The west would break open-I'd feel It grab me with snowflakes to keep me From falling down under the wheels.

A whistle dies down, echoed weakly,

Another flies from distant tracks.

A train comes past bare platforms sweeping - A blizzard of many hunched backs.

And twilight is rearing to go,

And, lured by the smoke and the steam,

The wind and the field rush and now I wish I could be one of them!

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Пастернак Борис

Произведения Бориса Пастернака. (29 января [10 февраля] 1890 — 30 мая 1960) — русский поэт, писатель и переводчик. Один из крупнейших русских по…
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