When my daydreams cross the brink of long-lost days
To find you there again, within the mist of memory,
I weep sweet tears, like the first Hebrew who gazed
Upon the promised land beyond the boundary.
I don't regret the childish games or quiet dreams
Stirred up so painfully and sweetly by your presence
During those days when I discovered what first love means:
A chaotic rush of feelings, restless
Hours, the pressure of a hand, and shining eyes,
The murmur of our innocent, senseless patter
Accompanied now by giggles, now by tender sighs —
These seemed to us the echo of true passion.
Когда мои мечты за гранью прошлых дней
Найдут тебя опять за дымкою туманной,
Я плачу сладостно, как первый иудей
На рубеже земли обетованной.
Не жаль мне детских игр, не жаль мне тихих снов,
Тобой так сладостно и больно возмущённых
В те дни, как постигал я первую любовь
По бунту чувств неугомонных.
По сжатию руки, по отблеску очей,
Сопровождаемым то вздохами, то смехом,
По ропоту простых, незначащих речей,
Лишь нам звучащих страсти эхом.
«The street awakens. She looks, exhausted / With the mute windows’ sullen eyes, / On sleepy faces, red from the cold, / That with thoughts chase the stubborn sleep away. The blackened trees with rime are covered — / With trace mysterious of the night’s fun, / In gleaming brocade sad ...»
«In the old Strauss waltz for the first time / We had listened to your quiet call, / Since then all the living things are alien / And the knocking of the clock consoles. We, like you, are gladly greeting sunsets, / And are drunk on nearness of the end. / All, with which on better nights we...»
«This grief for homeland! It’s despair / And hopelessness of daily worry! / I’m equally indifferent where / — Alone, entirely and wholly, — I am, which way I slowly stagger, / Back from the market, walking homeward, / Into a home, that like a barrack, / Still doesn’t know that ...»
«O, tears that in eyes freeze! / The cry of love and pain! / My Chekhia’s in tears! / In blood is all my Spain! / O, mountain of black, / You shaded all the world! / It’s time to return back / My ticket to the God. Yes, I refuse to be / In Bedlam of non-men. / Yes, I refuse to ...»