What is a bonfire?

I will answer you

Simply and directly:

Without fire -

It is a pile

Of dead junk.

It is the decay of willow,

Undermined by spring.

It is the stem of a flower,

That burned out in the heat.

It is the leaves of an oak,

Hanging until the frost.

And a coil of birch bark

From a rustling birch.

And a stump with rot,

That slowly smolders.

And a dry sunflower

With a twisted neck.

What the eye caught,

Was taken in the twilight.

Gathered on the bonfire

Is everything that once lived...

What is a bonfire?

It is a kind

High fire.

Stretch your hands to it,

Clasping palm to palm,

And sit down

And stay,

To warm yourself enough.

Warm yourself, but do not forget

To look closely at the fire.

If there were no darkness,

You would see it simpler:

The smoke is like the smoke

Of a greening grove.

Light smoke is already thick,

And above it, as it used to be,

A pink bush will flash

Of red willow.

And then from the smoke,

Which will light up again,

A scarlet splash of a flower

Will repeat over the bonfire.

The smoke will curl,

Will spin, will twist...

Suddenly a sunflower above it

Will bloom, will laugh.

It will stand,

It will wait

For the sun, sleeping somewhere,

And will fall again,

Without waiting for dawn.

What is a bonfire,

Illuminating the night bushes?

It is the hour of resurrection

Of past beauty.

Vasily Fyodorov