Why feed the early signs of boredom
With sinister and dismal thought,
And wait for separation, burdened
With sorrow, lonesome and distraught?
The day of grief is close at hand!
You’ll stand, alone, out in the sun,
And try to bring back once again
These days, but they will long be gone.
Misfortunate! then, you’ll be ready
To die in exile, on the street,
If you could only see your lady,
Or hear the shuffle of her feet.
Зачем безвременную скуку
Зловещей думою питать,
И неизбежную разлуку
В унынье робком ожидать?
И так уж близок день страданья!
Один, в тиши пустых полей,
Ты будешь звать воспоминанья
Потерянных тобою дней.
Тогда изгнаньем и могилой,
Несчастный, будешь ты готов
Купить хоть слово девы милой,
Хоть лёгкий шум её шагов.
«At twilight, we stood by the pier / I said, "See that swift in the sky? / As long as you live, will you ever / Forget how it whirled in its flight?" You said: "I'll remember forever!" / And then we both burst into tears, / And love, like a wounded bird cried… / At twilight, right ther...»
«I died. Aeolus tugged and blown / At trees and shutters with his heat. / I walked on down the dusty street / Fauns walked beside me. In each faun, / I made out Pan. I contemplated: / “This must be heaven, I have made it...” From sunlight hiding, shinning softly / with russet armpit...»
«Let me go, I plead, don’t deny me! / The night is silent, scary and cold. / I am powerless here. I am dying / from your blind constant assault. On a peak, one is free to bewail / the homeland he left of free will, / but I’ve descended now into the vale — / don’t you dare to foll...»
«From my bed / The blanket fled. / And the sheet refused to stay, And the pillow, / Like a billow, / Gathered up and flew away. I got up to reach the light, / But it also took to flight. / I decided I would look / At my coloured picture-book — / In a twinkling it had fled, / Hid...»