And there is a plenty of botflies
around the indifferent old horses;
and there is my native red flag risen
high up by the wind in Kaluga; also –
a whistle of the squails and a high blue sky,
waves of the tolling bells the crops above,
And a talk about germans – till it bothers! –
And a yellow-yellow cross behind the blue grove,
And the sweet fire, and the Light in a whole,
And your name, which’s sounding: the Angel – know!
18 May 1916
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