Sacred Haven of Debauchery

Shall I tell you a little poem?

I left my native home
And left behind the blue Russia
Three stars, a birch tree above the pond
Comfort the old mother's sadness

The moon, like a golden frog,
Spreads out on the blue water
Like apple blossom, gray
Has spread in my father's beard

I won't be back soon, not soon
I'll sing and make noise for a long time
The old maple on one leg
Guards the blue Russia

And I know, there is joy in it
For those who kiss the leaves in the rain
Because that old maple
Looks like me with its head

Sergei Yesenin