Three days later, the Summer Garden will open for visiting, and you can walk along the alleys, listen to the murmur of fountains, enjoy the aroma of roses on the ground. In the meantime, the Summer Garden is poetic. The poem by Mikhail Kuzmin, written in 1916.

Summer garden

The lost glory of the dilapidated
Remember forever.
Slip through the ages by a star shawl
And our years, gentlemen.
Where are the grandmothers’ robbers rustling,
Where is the small bounce of tender spurs
And in front of everyone, a date
Another slurred conversation?
Simple and slow walk
The king doesn’t pass in the garden,
Do not drive the fortress with a cannon
All dandies to oysters, like old.
Only Krylov’s Bonds doze,
The baby cries to the sky
Yes lindens are also fragrant
And the oak is still great.
Democratic crowd
Broken statues strange dream
But the sky glows in the spring
And the warm wind is the same!
You yourself arranged like that, oh God
What a heart (so weak it is)
Under the jackets beats the same
What’s under the camisoles for a long time.
And the whole avenue of the big alley
Measuring for the hundredth time
Suddenly stop blushing
When shot passers-by.
But who knows the exact time
For you, Amur the sorcerer,
Always an unexpected undertaking?

#Gardens of the Russian Museum # Mikhailovsky Garden # summer garden # Russian museum #rusmuseum_gardens #igardens