At daybreak there spread through the heavens
Pale clouds like a turreted town:
The cupolas golden, fantastic,
White roofs and white walls shining down.
This citadel is my white city,
My city familiar and dear,
Above the dark earth as it slumbers,
Upon the pink sky builded clear.
And all that aerial city
Sails northward, sails softly, sails high;
And there on the height, some one beckons,—
But proffers no pinions to fly.
Вон там по заре растянулся
Причудливый хор облаков:
Всё будто бы кровли, да стены,
Да ряд золотых куполов.
То будто бы белый мой город,
Мой город знакомый, родной,
Высоко на розовом небе
Над тёмной, уснувшей землёй.
И весь этот город воздушный
Тихонько на север плывёт...
Там кто-то манит за собою, —
Да крыльев лететь не даёт!..
«The sick, tired ice, / The sick and slushy snow… / And all is flowing, flowing… / How blithesome is the vernal run / Of mighty turbid waters! / And cries the hoary snow, / And dies the ice. / The air is full of bliss, / And the bell is singing. / From the arrows of spring will ...»
«Riveting our eyes / On the blanching east, / Children of sorrow, children of night, / We wait, to see if our prophet shall come. / We are scenting out the unseen, / And, with hope in our hearts, / Dying, we grieve / Over uncreated worlds. / Our speech is daring, / But condemned to ...»
«On a soft and foggy path, / Rustling with autumn leaves, / Wearing the smile of young life, / A child picks a strange bouquet. The October night gets closer, / And the dying bouquet gets brighter, / And the lively eyes feast / On the exuberant hue of wilted leaves… The more inconsola...»
«My bearing is simple, / Poor is my homely roof. / Y’see, I’m an islander / From isles very far-off. I live – don’t need anyone! / You entered – don’t sleep nights. / To heat a stranger’s dinner – / Will set my house alight. You glanced – now we are friendly, / You e...»