A.Boikov, As often was in childhood... - transl.(rus.)
by Andrei Boikov
As often was in childhood,
That, when I fell to earth,
My mother said: 'You shoudn't, true,
Take care! Only blow! '
And she blew on my wounded knee,
This seemed as a perfect magic,
The pain went out slowly,
And further went we gayly.
The years passed. A lot of grief
They brought, my mother passed...
And life - was kicking, beating me,
No one wished blowing up.
But through the pain I scrawled wayward -
Through frenzy circling days.
And here my son is crying a lot:
'Mother! ' - on his knee's pain.
I take his wounded pawn and blow,
Trying to take off grief!
My son says: 'Thank you, Papa, now! '
And pain goes out of me...
poem by Lyudmila Purgina
Added by Poetry Lover
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