My dear railway station, my treasure <br />Of meetings and partings, my friend <br />In times of hard trials and pleasure, <br />Your favours have been without end. <br /> <br />My scarf would wrap up my whole being - <br />The train would pull up, with deep sighs, <br />The muzzles of brash harpies, leering, <br />Would puff wet white steam in our eyes. <br /> <br />I'd sit at your side for a moment - <br />A hug and a kiss, brief and rough. <br />Farewell then, my joy and my torment. <br />I'm going, conductor, I'm off! <br /> <br />And, shunting bad weather and sleepers, <br />The west would break open-I'd feel <br />It grab me with snowflakes to keep me <br />From falling down under the wheels. <br /> <br />A whistle dies down, echoed weakly, <br />Another flies from distant tracks. <br />A train comes past bare platforms sweeping - <br />A blizzard of many hunched backs. <br /> <br />And twilight is rearing to go, <br />And, lured by the smoke and the steam, <br />The wind and the field rush and now <br />I wish I could be one of them!<br /><br />Boris Pasternak<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/railway-station/
