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!
«From 'Poem of the End' 3 And — the embankment. Still I embrace / The water like a solid thickness. / The gardens of Semiramis, / The hanging ones: your likeness. I hug the water's steely bar, / The colour of corpses, ashen, / Like singers hugging a music score / Or blind men graspin...»
«Herewith, having warned you beforehand / That between us is many miles' space, / That I am one of the riff-raff, / And in life have an honest place: Under the wheels of all excesses, / Host to hunchback and cripple, queer fish... / Herewith I shout from the rooftops, / Declare it — I ...»
«Hereafter, having warned in advance, / That there are miles between us! / That I rank myself one of the rabble, / That my place in the world is honest: Beneath the wheels of all excesses: / A table of monsters, cripples, hunchbacks... / And hereafter, from the roof of a bell tower / I p...»
«From "Sibyl" 3. Sibyl to the Infant: Child, cling / To my breast: / Birth is a falling into days. From the nowhere cliffs beyond the clouds, / My infant, / How low you fell! / You were spirit, you became dust. Cry, o little one, for them and for us: / Birth is a falling into hours!...»