The snowy spring is raging mad,
I look away from the saga;
O, dreadful hour, when she read
The palm extended by Tsouniga.
Into his eyes she aimed her gaze,
There was mockery in her dark eyes,
The row of pearly teeth had blazed,
And I forgot all the days and midnights.
The heart got overflowed with blood,
My homeland memories erasing.
A voice would sing, «With all your being
You’d have to pay me back for love.»
Бушует снежная весна.
Я отвожу глаза от книги...
О, страшный час, когда она,
Читая по руке Цуниги,
В глаза Хозе метнула взгляд!
Насмешкой засветились очи,
Блеснул зубов жемчужный ряд,
И я забыл все дни, все ночи,
И сердце захлестнула кровь,
Смывая память об отчизне...
А голос пел: Ценою жизни
Ты мне заплатишь за любовь!
«I still recall the wondrous moment: / When you appeared before my sight / As though a brief and fleeting omen, / Pure phantom in enchanting light. In sorrow, when I felt unwell, / Caught in the bustle, in a daze, / I fell under your voice’s spell / And dreamt the features of your face...»
«O blazing Muse of pure satire! / Come forth on my inviting call! / I do not need the thundering lyre, / Give me the scourge of Juvenal! / And neither lifeless imitators / Nor hungry, gluttonous translators, / Nor rhymesters, unsatisfied, / Shall fester from my pen tonight. / Peace to...»
«I love you, — though I rage anew / And struggle in vain, distressed, / And at your feet, I now confess / This foolishness to you! / This ill befits my age, and I… / Should know: enough’s enough! / But all the symptoms here imply / That I am plagued with love: / Without you near...»
«I have endured my desire, / I've ceased to love my fairy dreams, / And only fruit of hearty fire — / My sufferings have stayed, it seems. And under storms of cruel kismet / My blooming spirit quickly died, / I waited for the end, I missed it. / I'm feeling loneliness inside. So that ...»