Here you will find the Poem Intoxication of poet Boris Pasternak
Under osiers with ivy ingrown We are trying to hide from bad weather. I am clasping your arms in my own, In one cloak we are huddled together. I was wrong. Not with ivy-leaves bound, But with hops overgrown is the willow. Well then, let us spread out on the ground This our cloak as a sheet and a pillow.