Arseny Alexandrovich Tarkovsky. (№ 299940)

The third day the rain comes
Picking gray ice
And Raven on birch
Wash the beak and feathers crumples
(The rain).
No wonder the prose
(Everything passes)
heart clings,
To poor prose on the birch,
On the river and beyond the river
(Almost crying),
to poor prose
The paper at hand.