When the noisy day quiets down
and the translucent shadow of night descends
on the muted streets of the city,
sleep–the reward for the day’s works – is granted to normal men.
But for me, agonizing hours of insomnia
drag by in silence.
In the dead stillness my conscience burns more painfully,
like a snake bite;
fantasies churn; my mind,
weighed down with sadness,
gives way to a throng of oppressive thoughts;
memory silently unrolls its scroll:
filled with revulsion, I read the story of my life,
and tremble and curse,
and bitterly complain, and weep bitter tears,
but I can’t wipe away the miserable lines.
Когда для смертного умолкнет шумный день,
И на немые стогны града
Полупрозрачная наляжет ночи тень
И сон, дневных трудов награда,
В то время для меня влачатся в тишине
Часы томительного бденья:
В бездействии ночном живей горят во мне
Змеи сердечной угрызенья;
Мечты кипят; в уме, подавленном тоской,
Теснится тяжких дум избыток;
Воспоминание безмолвно предо мной
Свой длинный развивает свиток;
И с отвращением читая жизнь мою,
Я трепещу и проклинаю,
И горько жалуюсь, и горько слезы лью,
Но строк печальных не смываю.
«The spring was still mysteriously swooning, / Across the hills wandered transparent wind / And the deep lake was growing blue among us — / A temple forged and kept not by mankind. You were affrighted of our first encounter, / And prayed already for the second one, / And now today once m...»
«In Kievan temple of the divine wisdom / Falling to knees, I before thee did vow / That your way will be my way / Wherever, wherever it will go. Thus heard Yaroslav in a white coffin / And angels made of gold in his stead. / Like pigeons, weave the simple words / And are now near the sun...»
«City vanished, the last house's window / Stared like one living and stark... / This place is totally unfamiliar, / Smells of burning, and field is dark. But when the curtain of thunder / Moon had cut, indecisive and wan, / We could see: On the hill, to the forest, / Hobbled a handicapp...»
«Oh, there are unrepeated words, / Whoe'er said them wasted more than he should. / Inexhaustible only is the blue / Of sky and generosity of God.»