White birch


I remember, wounded birch
Remnant at the dawn of the bomb.
Studeny juice ran like tears,
According to the mutilated crust.

Forest rumbling guns,
Clubs smoke of gunpowder.
But we defended capital,
Saved birch near Moscow.

And early-bright and early spring
Birch white again
Dressed by a new shroud
And she began to decorate the ground.

And stop the pores of all threats
We always say:
Native Russian birch
The offense is no longer dadim.1950