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.
«Homesick for the Motherland! Long / Unmasked confusion ! / I do not care — / Where I am completely lonely Or over what stones I wander home / With a shopping bag / To a house, that is no longer mine / Like to a hospital or barracks. I do not care that I am among / Bristling people ...»
«I never took revenge and never will avenge myself — / One is not forgiven nor forgives / From the day I opened my eyes — till the coffin of oak / I will not lower myself — and God knows / Not overlook the great decline of this century ... / — But if a man is worthy?.. / — N...»
«7. Thinking of something else, undiscovered, / like a buried treasure, I absentmindedly / One by one, poppy by poppy / I beheaded my whole garden. So, someday, in the dry / Summer, on the edge of a field, / Death's absent-minded hand / Will pluck off a head — mine.»
«Between two — a hot fur! A Hand — hot fluff! / Circling — around the head. / But under the fur — bliss, under the fluff / Gaga — you tremble! Even the goddess of the thousands / — In the nests of dark stars — / No matter how you rotate, how gently / — Ach! — It ...»