Yes, I have loved. And the mad glowing
Of love’s drunk pain is at an end.
The triumph and the overthrowing,
The name of “foe”, the word of “friend”.
There have been many. . . . Are all fleeting?
Mere memories and shades of dreams.
Strangely I call them up, repeating
The golden music of their names.
There have been many. But a single
Charm bound them all in unity,
One frenzied Beauty made them mingle;
Its name is Love and Life to me!
Passion mysteriously breaking,
Lifted above the world on high
I saw another woman seeking
The fated place where passions lie.
And those same words, those same embraces.
On greedy lips the tedious lure.
Shoulders with ever-fading graces. . . .
No! Life unloving, empty, pure!
In my breast exultation surges;
From mountain-summits deep in snow
I send an avalanche by gorges
Where once I loved and kissed below!
И я любил. И я изведал
Безумный хмель любовных мук,
И пораженья, и победы,
И имя: враг; и слово: друг.
Их было много… Что́ я знаю?
Воспоминанья, тени сна…
Я только странно повторяю
Их золотые имена.
Их было много. Но одною
Чертой соединил их я,
Одной безумной красотою,
Чьё имя: страсть и жизнь моя.
И страсти таинство свершая,
И поднимаясь над землёй,
Я видел, как идёт другая
На ложе страсти роковой…
И те же ласки, те же речи,
Постылый трепет жадных уст,
И примелькавшиеся плечи…
Нет! Мир бесстрастен, чист и пуст!
И, наполняя грудь весельем,
С вершины самых снежных скал
Я шлю лавину тем ущельям,
Где я любил и целовал!
«For centuries, God promises us bliss! / With you forever! – The answer flies. / But hope is shattered. And passion dies. / There is no happiness, eternity, or God. But there are clouds in the sky above, / The empty rocks, the shining ice, / And still no name... to boredom and to grief...»
«It happens: no oblivion, no dreams, / The near shadows are roaming in the mist, / Whether you argue or you don’t, no doubts, / “Death and time are reigning on this earth”. Death and time. Suffering – we’ll add. / ...But by the morning, all of a sudden, with no cause, / With grie...»
«A window, a dawn, ... as shadows, are barely seen / Two chairs, a bookshelf on the wall. / Did I wake up? Or the ethereal lilac’s smell / I fancied in my dream? Or this is through the grieving parting, / Through those dim and smoky clouds, / A shadow is reaching out / And smiles from ...»
«One person said: "One life is not enough" / Another said, "The goal we can't handle" / A woman, habitually and dull, / Not listening, has rocked the cradle. The fading ropes creaked so much, / Fell into silence — more gently every time! — / As if the angels sang for her from heaven / ...»