Among the lovers of Karmen —
A motley crowd following her after
And calling her to go after,
Alone as the grey walls' shadow
Of the night tavern of the Lillias Pastia,
Looks gloomily he, keeps a silence,
Thus never waiting and demanding answer,
But when the tambourine starts jingling bell,
The wrists ring slightly —
He recollects the passed spring days,
While looking at her singing bodyshape
Among the highest music waves
And dreams of the creative way.
Среди поклонников Кармен,
Спешащих пестрою толпою,
Её зовущих за собою,
Один, как тень у серых стен
Ночной таверны Лиллас-Пастья,
Молчит и сумрачно глядит,
Не ждет, не требует участья,
Когда же бубен зазвучит
И глухо зазвенят запястья, —
Он вспоминает дни весны,
Он средь бушующих созвучий
Глядит на стан её певучий
И видит творческие сны.
«Don’t let your soul be idle never! / To not mill wind and be in slight, / The soul must be working ever / Both day and night, both day and night! Chase that from house and to house, / Drag from one stage to other stage, / Through sluggishness and over rouse, / Across track snow, via r...»
«In depths of heaven in a bottle, / Where palms have withered long ago, / A window in a glass would wobble, / Beneath an electronic glow; / As if in gold it shone and played, / Then sank and settled, gaining weight; / Above a mist of beer would glide... / A scene which cannot be describ...»
«Inside of this birchen grove, / Far away from misfortune and woe, / Which, blushing pink, will rove / The continuous day-breaking glow, / Where, from highness arboreal, / Clear leaf avalanches arrive, / Sing a desert song, golden oriole, / Sing the song of my life. Flying over a meado...»
«At a minuscule medium gazing, / Through Leeuwenhoek's magic device, / Our science has put the amazing / Signs of life in front of out eyes. A realm of collapse and formation, / A link of an infinite chain, / A miraculous, full of creation, / Be it tiny and feeble, domain. Neither small...»