A wave-kissed land is known to me
Where sea in isolation splashes;
The sun emits its clouded flashes
Upon the scorched and barren lea;
There are no oaks – the steppe is empty.
It creeps alone above the sea.
Я знаю край: там на брега
Уединенно море плещет;
Безоблачно там солнце блещет
На опаленные луга;
Дубрав не видно — степь нагая
Над морем стелется одна.
«White churches stand tall and there’s resonant, glistening ice, / And the cornflower-blue is abloom in my son’s precious gaze. / Nights strung with diamonds hang high on the ancient town’s heights, / More yellow than linden-flower honey the sickle-moon’s rays. Dry blizzards blow in fr...»
«(The Overseas Ostrich) Here I come, / in feathers of stanzas, meter and rhyme, / an overseas ostrich, in sum, / is what I’m. / Trying, do I, my poor noggin to hide, / to deep under jangling of plumage abide. I’m not yours, you snow-smothered monstrosity! / Deep, burrow deep / int...»
«The year will come, a year pitch black for Holy Rus, / When crown from head of Romanovs will fall; / The rabble once in thrall to tsars will let sheer havoc loose, / To feed on blood and bloody death will be the lot of all. That year will see the time when law is brought to naught, / When g...»
«A year will come — for Russia a black year — / When the crown so many tsars have worn, will fall; / The mob will lose the love it had for them, / And multitudes will feed on blood and death. / The law, thrown over, will no longer shield / The little children and the chaste young wives;...»