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.
«Sun — is one, but treads all over the cities, / Sun — is mine. I shan't give it to anybody. Not for an hour, for ray, nor for glance. — Nobody, never! / Then let cities vanish in the night unchangeable. I'll take it in hands! — To avoid its circling in round! / Besides of burning ...»
«There’s only one sun — but it travels the world everyday. / This sun is all mine and I won’t ever give it away. I will share not an hour of warmth, not a beam of its light! / I’ll let cities perish in the constant, unchangeable night! I will hold it up with my hands, till it ceases to ...»
«O, do the Russians long for war? / Ask of the stillness evermore, / Ask of the field, or ask the breeze, / And ask the birch and poplar trees. / / Ask of the soldiers who now lie / Beneath the birch trees and the sky, / And let their sons tell you once more / Whether the Russians...»
«Snow, snow, all the world over, / Snow to the world’s end swirling, / A candle was burning on the table, / A candle burning. As midges swarming in summer / Fly to the candle flame, / The snowflakes swarming outside / Flew at the window frame. The blizzard etched on the window / Fro...»