Birches are women...
Birches are women - believe me! Lives extinguished long ago, in an ancient century or even much before... And into our century the thrown back branches, where now we are leading the speech... Birches are women... As a lumen... A thread that connects past and future - Birches are the white sutures... And sparingly joy is consumed by the fate... And plenty of tears are dropping uncounted... On their shoulders there's glory and disgrace: Ophelia, Delilah, Yaroslava... They would recognize themselves if they could... Not fast, not loud, but they would. Their call is frozen and cold... They are ruined by an ax or a knife, They are crying at night telling their memories and stories... Their light discharges the darkness of the forests. Birches are women... Just take a look They're growing straight next to the brook, They are not here - in parallel worlds... They are laughing decorating their hair with the ribbons... They're celebrating our meeting... How they celebrate! Solemnly heed, my dear, their voices, their laugh, their songs... May their blessing be with us! Birches are the women of the Earth!..