There a man burned
Fet
How difficult to wander in the crowd
Pretending every day to be alive,
Recounting to the not-yet-living
The passions' tragic play.
And, peering into nightmares,
Find order in disordered swirls of feeling,
So that by art's anemic glow
They recognize life's fatal fire.
Там человек сгорел.
Фет
Как тяжело ходить среди людей
И притворяться непогибшим,
И об игре трагической страстей
Повествовать ещё не жившим.
И, вглядываясь в свой ночной кошмар,
Строй находить в нестройном вихре чувства,
Чтобы по бледным заревам искусства
Узнали жизни гибельной пожар!
« Out of your memory, I will remove this day, / So that your helpless gaze can question in a drowse: / Where I did see the Persian lilac sway, / The little swallows, and the wooden house? Hearing my name, you’re going to recall / Unnamed desires’ anguish in a snap, / And in despondent...»
«He didn’t glorify or scold me / Like enemies might or friends. / He left his soul for me and told me: / Keep it safe in your hands. I’m concerned with one thing only: / What to do if he should die, — / An angel will take him from me / And return his soul to the sky. How will I co...»
«My shadow remained and it pines there, listless, / In that light and blue room, it has settled down, / Past midnight it waits for the guests from town, / And the enameled icon, every night, it kisses. / And in this house, not everything is pleasant: / They’ll light a fire, but darkness s...»
«The heavens sow a light rain / On the blooming lilac shrub. / While, outside, the white Whit Monday / Beats its wings, ascending up. And today’s — a closing date, / My dear friend returns from sea. / Shores and towers, as of late, / In my dreams, appear to me. Climbing up the final...»