Through the closed nursery doors, the sugar angel
stares through the chink to see
the children playing at the Christmas party,
the brightly candled tree.
Nana is making up the crackling fire,
a blaze for Christmas Day.
Only the sugar angel — he is German —
wastes, warm and sweet, away.
First comes the softening of his little feathers,
the melting of his feet,
the tiny head falls back, he makes a puddle,
minute and warm and sweet.
And then the puddle dries away. The mistress
looks everywhere in vain,
while old deaf Nana, who remembers nothing,
grumbles and looks again.
You fragile creatures of our dearest daydreams!
Break, melt and vanish away
in the bright-burning blaze of hourly happenings,
the clatter of everyday.
Only a little mischevious girl, recalling
the breath of days departed,
will weep for you in secret for a moment.
A child is tender-hearted.
На разукрашенную елку
И на играющих детей
Сусальный ангел смотрит в щелку
Закрытых наглухо дверей.
А няня топит печку в детской,
Огонь трещит, горит светло...
Но ангел тает. Он — немецкий.
Ему не больно и тепло.
Сначала тают крылья крошки,
Головка падает назад,
Сломались сахарные ножки
И в сладкой лужице лежат...
Потом и лужица засохла.
Хозяйка ищет — нет его...
А няня старая оглохла,
Ворчит, не помнит ничего...
Ломайтесь, тайте и умрите,
Созданья хрупкие мечты,
Под ярким пламенем событий,
Под гул житейской суеты!
Так! Погибайте! Что в вас толку?
Пускай лишь раз, былым дыша,
О вас поплачет втихомолку
Шалунья девочка — душа...
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