I come again with greetings new,
To tell you day is well begun;
To say the leaves are fresh with dew
And dappled in the early sun;
To tell you how the forest stirs
In every branch of every brake,
And what an April thirst is hers,
With every whistling bird awake;
To say, as yesterday, once more,
With love as passionate and true,
My heart is ready as before
For serving happiness and you;
To tell how over every thing
Delight is blowing on the air —
I know not yet what I shall sing;
I only know the song is there.
Я пришёл к тебе с приветом,
Рассказать, что солнце встало,
Что оно горячим светом
По листам затрепетало;
Рассказать, что лес проснулся,
Весь проснулся, веткой каждой,
Каждой птицей встрепенулся
И весенней полон жаждой;
Рассказать, что с той же страстью,
Как вчера, пришёл я снова,
Что душа всё так же счастью
И тебе служить готова;
Рассказать, что отовсюду
На меня весельем веет,
Что не знаю сам, что́ буду
Петь — но только песня зреет.
«There’s only one sun — but it travels the world everyday. / This sun is all mine and I won’t ever give it away. I will share not an hour of warmth, not a beam of its light! / I’ll let cities perish in the constant, unchangeable night! I will hold it up with my hands, till it ceases to ...»
«O, do the Russians long for war? / Ask of the stillness evermore, / Ask of the field, or ask the breeze, / And ask the birch and poplar trees. / / Ask of the soldiers who now lie / Beneath the birch trees and the sky, / And let their sons tell you once more / Whether the Russians...»
«Snow, snow, all the world over, / Snow to the world’s end swirling, / A candle was burning on the table, / A candle burning. As midges swarming in summer / Fly to the candle flame, / The snowflakes swarming outside / Flew at the window frame. The blizzard etched on the window / Fro...»
«To every infant love is given, — / but between work, / profits / and other stuff, / from evening to evening, / the crust of the heart grows rough. / The heart wears a body, / that body — a shirt. / and that's not all, they're obsessed! / an idiot! — / inventing cuff-links,...»