I'm dreaming. A black Road - Yesenin (English subtitles)

Sergei Alexandrovich Esenin was born in Konstantinovo in the Ryazan region to a peasant family in 1895. He began to write poetry at the age of nine. In 1912, he moved to Moscow where he supported himself working as a proofreader in a printing company. The following year he enrolled in Moscow State University as an external student and studied there for a year and a half. His early poetry was inspired by Russian folklore. In 1915, he moved to St. Petersburg, where he became acquainted with fellow-poets Alexander Blok, Sergei Gorodetsky, Nikolai Klyuev and Andrey Bely. It was in St. Petersburg that he became well known in literature circles. Alexander Blok was especially helpful in promoting Yesenin's early career as a poet. Yesenin said that Bely gave him the meaning of form while Blok and Klyuev taught him lyricism. See wikipedia for more info. Вижу сон. Дорога черная Белый конь. Стопа упорная. И на этом на коне Едет милая ко мне. Едет, едет милая, Только нелюбимая. Эх, береза русская! Путь-дорога узкая. Эту милую, как сон, Лишь для той, в кого влюблен, Удержи ты ветками, Как руками меткими. Светит месяц. Синь и сонь. Хорошо копытит конь. Свет такой таинственный, Словно для единственной - Той, в которой тот же свет И которой в мире нет. Хулиган я, хулиган. От стихов дурак и пьян. Но и все ж за эту прыть, Чтобы сердцем не остыть, За березовую Русь С нелюбимой помирюсь. Im dreaming. A black road. Im dreaming. A black road. A white stallion. A stubborn step. And on this stallion, Is one dear to me. On she goes my darling, Only not loved. Oh, Russian birch! The road-way is narrow. This dear one, like the dream, Just for the one who I love, Hold back with your branches, Like accurate arms. The moon shines. Dark blue and drowsiness. The horse clops along nicely. The light is so mysterious, As if for that only one The one in whom that very light is And who is no longer of this world. A hooligan am I, a hooligan. Drunk and stupid on verse. But all the same for this energy, So my heart may not cool, For birch-clad Rus, I will make it up with the one I dont love.