We waited commonly for sleep or even death.
The instances were wearisome as ages.
But suddenly the wind's refreshing breath
Touched through the window the Holy Bible's pages:
An old man goes there — who's now all white-haired —
With rapid steps and merry eyes, alone,
He smiles to us, and often calls with hand,
And leaves us with a gait, that is well-known.
And suddenly we all, who watched the old man's track,
Well recognized just him who now lay before us,
And turning in a sudden rapture back,
Beheld a corpse with eyes forever closed...
And it was good for us the soul's way to trace,
And, in the leaving one, to find the glee it's forming.
The time had come. Recall and love in grace,
And celebrate another house-warming!
Мы вместе ждали смерти или сна.
Томительные проходили миги.
Вдруг ветерком пахнуло от окна,
Зашевелился лист Священной Книги.
Там старец шел — уже, как лунь, седой —
Походкой бодрою, с веселыми глазами,
Смеялся нам, и всё манил рукой,
И уходил знакомыми шагами.
И вдруг мы все, кто был, — и стар и млад
Узнали в нем того, кто перед нами,
И, обернувшись с трепетом назад,
Застали прах с закрытыми глазами...
Но было сладко душу уследить
И в отходящей увидать веселье.
Пришел наш час — запомнить и любить,
И праздновать иное новоселье.
«I think sometimes that soldiers long ago, / Who never could return from the bloody leas, / Were buried not into the mellow soil, / But once transformed into the flying cranes. Since then till date in that blue skies they're flying / And crying us from heavens downwards; / And here's the m...»
«It seems to me at times that the soldiers, / Do not come from the bloody fields, / Not in this earth have lie once, / But have turned to the white cranes. They till this day since those distant times / Flying and give voices to our. / Not therefore either so frequent and so sad / We bec...»
«In room next door, all swathed in empty murk, / The clock first wheezed, then struck its twelve long beats, / And, taking turns, each second sans surcease, / Went pounding on to where death’s angels lurk, / / Then (precious interval) they called a sudden halt, / Before resuming coinin...»
«Sister my life burst forth today / In torrents of spring rain, everywhere. / But people in jewels are highly squeamish / And bite politely, like hidden vipers. The older people have their reasons for this; / ...»