Dear doting sweetheart of my childhood,
Companion of my austere fate!
In the lone house deep in the wild wood
How patiently for me you wait.
Alone beside your window sitting
You wait for me and blame the clock,
While, in your wrinkled hands, your knitting
Fitfully falters to a stop.
Beyond the crumbling gates the pinetrees
Shadow the road you watch so well.
Nameless forebodings, dark anxieties,
Oppress your heart. You cannot tell
What visions haunt you: Now you seem to see...
Подруга дней моих суровых,
Голубка дряхлая моя!
Одна в глуши лесов сосновых
Давно, давно ты ждёшь меня.
Ты под окном своей светлицы
Горюешь, будто на часах,
И медлят поминутно спицы
В твоих наморщенных руках.
Глядишь в забытые вороты
На чёрный отдалённый путь;
Тоска, предчувствия, заботы
Теснят твою всечасно грудь.
То чудится тебе . . . . . . . . . .
«Here summer is over / As if it never happened. / Under the sun it's warmer, / Only it's not sufficient. All that could be realized, / Like a five-fingered leaf, in / My hands was brought straight, / Only it's not sufficient. Neither evil nor good / Was lost here in vain. / It all...»
«Here're the girls — they wish to love, / Here're the boys — they wish to wander, / All changes in that april just unite, / Consoloidate the people with each other. O, the new month, the new such Lord, / You seek in such a way new favour, / You may be generous in your words, / Letti...»
«Outside, the blizzard sets in deep / And all its polish coats. / The paper seller is asleep, / Her kiosk, drifting, floats. Not once we’ve happened to observe / In our lives’ lengthy course, / The snowfall comes with shy reserve / To trick our eyes perforce. Concealing unrepentantl...»
«Snow is falling, falling down. / The geraniums are trying / To befriend the sparkles flying / Past the window’s woven bound. Snow is falling, all’s in action, / Smitten, taking off the ground: / The black stairs, the intersection, — / All is being lost and found. Snow is falling...»