Not sorry, not calling, not crying All will pass like smoke of white apple trees Seized by the gold of autumn, I will no longer be young. — Sergei Yesenin Copy Share Image
Whom shall I call on? Who will share with me The wretched happiness of staying alive? — Sergei Yesenin Copy Share
“Što sam? Tko sam? Ja sam samo sanjar, čiji pogled gasne u magli i memli, živio sam usput, ko da sanjam, kao mnogi drugi… — Sergei Yesenin Copy Share
“„U oluji i buri kraj nedaća svih, uz teške gubitke i tugu kletu, biti prirodan, nasmejan i tih najveća je umetnost na svetu.” — Sergei Yesenin Copy Share
Goodbye, my friend, goodbye. My dear, you are in my heart. Predestined separation promises a future meeting. — Sergei Yesenin Copy Share
Not sorry, not calling, not crying All will pass like smoke of white apple trees Seized by the gold of autumn, I will no… — Sergei Yesenin Copy Share
