Let the nightingale resound,
Let us feel the first light’s gaze,
Let me wrap my arm, stretched out,
In the gloom, around your waist.
The canoe will drift by, lazy,
Past the swaying reeds, eclipsed,
You will fall to me, embracing,
Burning passion - on your lips.
Sing for me, my love, with feeling,
As your melody grows strong,
It's more charming, more appealing
Than the nightingale’s song!...
Пусть рассвет глядит нам в очи,
Соловей поет ночной,
Пусть хоть раз во мраке ночи
Обовью твой стан рукой.
И челнок пойдет, качаясь
В длинных темных камышах,
Ты прильнешь ко мне, ласкаясь,
С жаркой страстью на устах.
Пой любовь, пусть с дивной песней
Голос льется все сильней,
Ты прекрасней, ты прелестней,
Чем полночный соловей!..
«I The Sayan rolls with one swell after another, / And with shores of chalk. / Here, is the brooding of the past, / Where time has turned numb. / Above, with a vast blanket, / The sails rustle ominously, / A shuttle boat perturbs the second / Sky of the river with its hulk bottom. / ...»
«1 I break the layered rocks / In the hour when the silty day / Is moulded, and my tired mule carries / The weighty lumps on its shaggy back. We carry them to the railroad, / Put them in a heap, — and to the sea again / The hairy legs lead us, / And the mule starts braying. And it br...»
«The city took off its wintery things. / The snows turned slobbery. / Spring has come again, / foolish and loose-tongued / as an army cadet.»
«The hooves clattered. / As if singing: / — Crib. / Grab. / Grub. / Gruff. Drunk with the wind, / ice-shod, / the street slid away, / a horse landed / with a wallop on its crupper, / and instantly, / gaper after gaper, / boot-cut pants on Kuznetskii, / ganged up / with ...»