by Pavel Chichikov
I saw the baby Jesus on the trail
Between the river birches and the upland oak
His mother set him down
Autumn falling and her shoulders ached
Stand awhile my Child
And say farewell for Your weak mother's sake
She set him down – he stood foresquare
On His small child's legs and waved –
Whom could He save?
Goodbye to the foxes in the hollow
Goodbye to the deer beside the cold stream
I will not see the summer swallow
