Ave Maria — the lamp is quiet,
Four lines in my heart are ready all right:
Blessed Holy Virgin, mother of grief,
Your grace penetrated my soul, I perceive.
Not in a blaze, — in a quiet dream
Appear before her, Heaveny Queen,
Ave Maria — the lamp is quiet,
I said all these lines in a whisper all right
Ave Maria — лампада тиха,
В сердце готовы четыре стиха:
Чистая дева, скорбящего мать,
Душу проникла твоя благодать.
Неба царица, не в блеске лучей —
В тихом предстань сновидении ей!
Ave Maria — лампада тиха,
Я прошептал все четыре стиха.
«I think of the dawn of your glory, / Of the dawn of your days, / When you awoke from sleep as a demon / And a god for mankind. / / I think of the way your brows / Were knitted above the torches that were your eyes, / And of the ancient blood that, like lava, / Flowed inside your vei...»
«I like that you are not in love with me / And that I do not burn with lust for you; / We have no need to fear that suddenly / The earth may cave in underneath our shoes. / I like that I can in your presence be / Relaxed and silly, and not try to charm, / And not flush red with ardent mod...»
«I remember you but on occasion, / And your fate does not keep me in thrall, / Yet the time when I made your acquaintance / Leaves a durable trace on my soul. / / I walk quickly when passing your house, / That red house where the grim river runs, / But I know I unsettle somehow / You...»
«That day when over world newborn / God would reveal his face / Sun could be stopped by word alone / Word could destroy a place Hawks dared not to strike their wings / The stars drew closer to the Moon / When as aurora in the skies / A word would drift along A number was for lowly life ...»