As Pushkin lay dying
he longed for cloudberries
draw
a cloudberry
Draw
the forbidden fruit
before which there was
immortality
Draw
the apple of discord
before which there were
no wars
Draw
the vital
fruits of learning
which are never enough
but once we have them
we will
live
our natural lives
and only die
natural
deaths
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem