Three shabby straps begin to flutter
Like in the golden years again,
And sticking in the slushy gutter
The motley spokes can hardly gain.
Oh Russia, wretched Russia, dear,
Your houses, so grey and rough,
Your songs that blow, up in the air,
Appear as clear as tears of love.
I'm bearing my cross, my dear,
Shall I feel sorry? Well, I won't...
Just give your beauty, so austere,
To any sorcerer, you want.
He will deceive you and ensnare, —
Yet you won't perish, nor get lost.
And only burdened mind and care
Will hide your charm beneath the frost.
Well, now... It's just another care,
A teardrop in the stream again,
With plains and forests here and there,
With figured wimples, — you're the same.
Now all is possible this instance,
And easy is the road that lies
When from the kerchief, in the distance,
I see the flashing light of eyes,
When in a cautious gloomy tone
Resounds the coacher's hollow song!..
Опять, как в годы золотые,
Три стертых треплются шлеи,
И вязнут спицы росписные
В расхлябанные колеи...
Россия, нищая Россия,
Мне избы серые твои,
Твои мне песни ветровые, —
Как слезы первыя любви!
Тебя жалеть я не умею,
И крест свой бережно несу...
Какому хочешь чародею
Отдай разбойную красу!
Пускай заманит и обманет, —
Не пропадешь, не сгинешь ты,
И лишь забота затуманит
Твои прекрасные черты...
Ну, что ж? Одной заботой боле —
Одной слезой река шумней,
А ты всё та же — лес, да поле,
Да плат узорный до бровей...
И невозможное возможно,
Дорога долгая легка,
Когда блеснет в дали дорожной
Мгновенный взор из-под платка,
Когда звенит тоской острожной
Глухая песня ямщика!..
«My fields, my wave-like, foaming fields! / With autumn spinach, brown as if of bricks, / And lettuce, clover, heather and daisy. / How much the eyes can hear and ears can see! I walk along the side of the river. / The wildflowers shine like sapphire / Leaning beneath the wheats golden fra...»
«Youre in no way like other women at all: / You have laughter controlled and expressive, / You wear dresses measured and fashionably long / And you slip out from my embraces. You do not cut your hair to look upscale, / Deepen brows or wear make up, / You have Smirnoff, but also a nightinga...»
«My dear Felissochka! My most exquisite! / I give you "Minstrel" and all my dreams. / You are beloved by all thats delicate, / My sweet Felissa — My violin! May to the crude one you be an egotist — / I care not: You are most loved by me! / My most talented! My sweet Felissochka! / My...»
«In violet and purple bloomed the lilac, / The lilac bloomed in pink and white and pale. / We headed toward it on a tortuous trail / Across an ancient fur and furrowed park. Sea to the left; river ahead, and hills — / Behind; the blooming lilacs on the mounts / Weave from the gentle smel...»