For the last time I risk caresses
In fancy on your darling face.
To waken dreams my strong heart presses.
And softly, shy of its distresses,
Your love for me it would retrace.
Our life is hurrying and changes;
Everything changes; we change too;
And him, whose song through passion ranges.
Gloom of the grave from you estranges;
He, once your friend, is dead to you.
Take it, my friend far separated,
This last leave-taking of my heart,
As would a widow desolated,
Or friend from friend to exile fated,
In silent kiss before they part.
В последний раз твой образ милый
Дерзаю мысленно ласкать,
Будить мечту сердечной силой
И с негой робкой и унылой
Твою любовь воспоминать.
Бегут, меняясь, наши лета,
Меняя всё, меняя нас,
Уж ты для своего поэта
Могильным сумраком одета,
И для тебя твой друг угас.
Прими же, дальная подруга,
Прощанье сердца моего,
Как овдовевшая супруга,
Как друг, обнявший молча друга
Пред заточением его.
«In the early evening, the suspended bowls / Of the pale street lamps grate. / Brighter and more festive grows / The whirling spray of flakes. And through the softly falling snow, / Smoothly quickening their pace, / Under the dark blue web, as though / Sensing pursuit, the horses race. ...»
«All that I am hangs by a thread tonight / as I wait for her whom no one can command. / Whatever I cherish most — youth, freedom, glory — / fades before her who bears the flute in her hand. And look! she comes ... she tosses back her veil, / staring me down, serene and pitiless. / "Are...»
«Everything has been checked. My inventory is ready. / O bell, strike for the last time. / For the last time sound the final departure. / Everything has been checked, nothing holds me here, / And voices call from the mists. / O, voices call in hope and freedom... Everything has been checke...»
«And copper and worn my farthing / Is fit only for a beggar’s pouch. / This is not the good deed — / So, I’ll give my soul to him. / And if the soul is not coin, / But a golden star — / I’ll fling a sliver of light / There whe»