From Aesculapius escaping,
I'm lean and shaven, but alive;
His cruel paw no more torments me,
And there is hope that I may thrive.
Now health, the light friend of Priapus,
And sleep, are entering my door,
And in my plain and crowded corner
Repose becomes my guest once more.
Then humor this poor convalescent,
You too — he longs to see again
Your face, you lawless carefree creature,
You, Pindus' lazy citizen,
True son of Freedom and of Bacchus,
Who worships Venus piously,
A masterhand at every pleasure.
From Petersburg society,
Its chilly charms, its idle bustle,
Its clacking tongues that nothing stills,
Its various and endless boredom,
I'm summoned by the fields and hills,
The shady maples in the garden,
The bank of the deserted burn,
The liberties the country offers.
Give me youf, hand. I will return
At the beginning of October:
We'll drink together once again,
And o'er our cups with friendly candor
Discuss a dozen gentlemen —
We'll talk of fools and wicked gentry,
And those with flunkeys' souls from birth,
And sometimes of the Czar of Heaven,
And sometimes of the one on earth.
Я ускользнул от Эскулапа
Худой, обритый — но живой;
Его мучительная лапа
Не тяготеет надо мной.
Здоровье, легкой друг Приапа,
И сон, и сладостный покой,
Как прежде, посетили снова
Мой угол тесный и простой.
Утешь и ты полу-больного!
Он жаждет видеться с тобой,
С тобой, счастливый беззаконник,
Ленивый Пинда гражданин,
Свободы, Вакха верный сын,
Венеры набожный поклонник
И наслаждений властелин!
От суеты столицы праздной,
От хладных прелестей Невы,
От вредной сплётницы молвы,
От скуки, столь разнообразной,
Меня зовут холмы, луга,
Тенисты клены огорода,
Пустынной речки берега
И деревенская свобода.
Дай руку мне. Приеду я
В начале мрачном сентября:
С тобою пить мы будем снова,
Открытым сердцем говоря
Насчет глупца, вельможи злого,
Насчет холопа записного,
Насчет небесного царя,
А иногда насчет земного.
«I Gorged for a time with bloody slaughter, / Both servants and valorous hero are weary / And enter the dome of God’s dwelling. / Where candles glimmer at the Master’s feet, / And from the basilica’s walls, with gentle smiles, / Gaze the blissful faces of the Seraphim. II The weary...»
«What customs these are, what an age! / All lazily drag their burden, / Thinking of no one else. / Bored with their sleepy gatherings, / With everyday diversions, / With their affected gaiety We, entrenched in our humble desires, / Seek half-tints, / Hating dark and light. / No illus...»
«I want to die young, / Neither loving nor grieving for anyone; / To burst like a golden falling star, / To shed my petals while still an unfaded flower. / I want those wearied by hostility / To find bliss twofold at my gravestone. / I want to die young. Bury me to the side, / Away fro...»
«In an ornamented tower huddled the harem / Of the lord of an eastern land; / There captives lived, not knowing why, / Languished, and awaited Spring. The sun had inclined toward the pearly waves, / The air breathed wind and dreams. / An unknown knight on a white steed / Approached — a...»