by Pavel Chichikov
Three little birds on the stable door
Lime white wood and yellow straw
The winter sun goes down and in –
Purple, blue and cinnamon
A brace to sit and one to fly
Into the evening's burning eye
A sparrow springs and then there's one
To swing on the hinge of the falling sun
All night long the horses wait
The cow and donkey bate their breath
A sparrow beak, a sparrow wing
One thin straw of gold to bring
