prose merk the lilac catcher at this time he has picked up an armful from the field and thinks mitrafilaksky. it is like prose, that is, the sentence flows from one line to another, they can be read in poetic rhythm. and you can read and merge. there is one misunderstood word here. trachel. well, the german verb trefen, herbs, windmills - it will be possible to get it and so on. well, this is what this poem is about. as you, of course, remember a very simple thing, but that at night, and lightnings snatch out familiar pictures that are remembered. we e by the way they see during the day, but at night they e look, as if photographs snatched from the darkness, we recognize the familiar, which seems unfamiliar to us, this is what we are talking about here. well, uh, thunder and lightning are presented in such a personified form this is a photographer. if you remember the old days, the photographer, crouched down on his big camera, put on, uh, pulled the trigger on his head, pulled the trigger in parallel, pressed uh, another trigger, twitched the magnesium flash, everything, this, uh, zarya her