Guillaume Apollinaire. (№ 380384)

I found the courage to look back
The corpses of past days
Strew my path I want them to mourn
Here they dolivayut inside Italian churches
Or in groves of lemon trees
Flowering and fruiting
At the same time in the same season
And the other choked sob dying in taverns
Where bouquets spolokhov crumbled in the eyes
The ebony that invented poetry
And in the garden of my memory even to this day
Bloom bushes electric roses