By Sasha Chorny

The roots of trees and bushes
Already start their motion.
The snow has fully melted
On turf and next to crosses.

The thawed-out bones are nearly
Kicking the air awake,
And early springtime moon
Is strolling through the churchyard.

While skeletons climb out from
The slippery narrow pit-holes.
And bathrooms become whitened
Both girls' and nearby - mens' too.

The men shake tiny girls' hands,
And lead then to moon's garden.
While all the earthy nothings
Do all-the-while get said.

The rustling. Sighs. The whispers.
The clanking of the bones here.
And one can hear sad rapport
From Alleys' deepest corners:

"Oh my madam! Lousy business...
Though I won't fear to show you:
Alas, the body's rotted -
What else to love you with?!

- 1910