Here you will find thePoemThe High Road In Winterof poet Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
Between the rolling vapours The moon glides soft and bright; Across the dreary fallows She casts a mournful light. Along the wintry high road A troika moves fleet; Its little bells are ringing One silver tone and sweet. Some echo of my country The driver's song recalls? The memory of love yearnings And noisy bacchanals. No lights, no black-roofed dwellings? Silence and snow ... I see For mile on mile the road-posts In striped monotony.
