I went into the night to know
The distant stir, the nearby chatter,
To give myself to nothing, so
I might believe in dream-hooves’ clatter.
The road in pallid moonlight seemed
With footsteps now to be resounding.
There only someone’s shadow streamed
And sank behind the hills surrounding.
I listened and I caught the sound
Amidst the lunar splotches’ tremble
Of far-off horse-hooves’ echo’s pound,
And whistling light did not dissemble.
From here and further sounded strain
And fell my heart to soft contention —
Oh whence did come that knock’s refrain
And voice that caught my ears’ attention?
And now the hooves the louder were,
And milky charger towards me hurtled…
And who was silent now was clear
And who on empty saddle chortled.
I went into the night to know
The distant stir, the nearby chatter,
To give myself to nothing so
I might believe in dream-hooves’ clatter.
Я вышел в ночь — узнать, понять
Далекий шорох, близкий ропот,
Несуществующих принять,
Поверить в мнимый конский топот.
Дорога, под луной бела,
Казалось, полнилась шагами.
Там только чья-то тень брела
И опустилась за холмами.
И слушал я — и услыхал:
Среди дрожащих лунных пятен
Далеко, звонко конь скакал,
И легкий посвист был понятен.
Но здесь, и дальше — ровный звук,
И сердце медленно боролось,
О, как понять, откуда стук,
Откуда будет слышен голос?
И вот, слышнее звон копыт,
И белый конь ко мне несется...
И стало ясно, кто молчит
И на пустом седле смеется.
Я вышел в ночь — узнать, понять
Далекий шорох, близкий ропот,
Несуществующих принять,
Поверить в мнимый конский топот.
«When you were reading those tormented lines / In which the heart's resonant flame sends out glowing streams / And passion's fatal torrents rear up, — / Didn't you recall a single thing? I can't believe it! That night on the steppe / When, in the midnight mist a premature dawn, / Transpa...»
«While lounging in a chair, I looked up at the ceiling / Where, teasing my imagination, / A circle hangs above the quiet lamp, / And spins just like a ghostly shadow. Within the flicker there's a trace of autumn sunset: / As if, above the rooftop and the garden, / Unable to fly off, afraid...»
«My face turned upwards to the sky / One summer night I lay upon some hay / A lively close-knit starry chorus / Was flickering all around. The mute earth, nebulous and dreamlike, / Rushed off without a trace / And I, like Eden's first inhabitant, / Faced night's gaze all alone. Was it ...»
«I have come to you with greetings / To tell you the sun has risen, / To say that its burning light / Through the leaves has sent a flutter; To say that the woods have waked, / Every corner, and every twig, / Every bird has taken wing / Full of appetite for spring; To say I have come a...»