Andrei Voznesensky
- Autumn in Sigulda, by W. H. Auden
(Hanging out of the train, I...) - Autumn in Sigulda, by Edwin Morgan
(From the last carriage I watch the place go by...)
«God has no mercy on gardeners and reapers / And ringing, the rains fall awry / And the mosaic of wide cloaks now shimmers / In waters, that once showed the sky. The kingdom of water holds meadows and ranges, / And streams freely sing as they play, / The plums start to burst on the long sw...»
«We’re not in the forest, no need to bellow, — / Such mockery fills me with dread, / Won’t you sing lullabies in order to mellow / My wounded conscience instead? You have many other cares, / And a wife, I realize… / And the Petersburg spring stares / Deep into my withered eyes. ...»
«He was promised to me by it all: / The pleasant dream at Christmastime, / The tarnished sky of red and gold, / And Easter winds that seemed to chime, The red rods of the twigs, all nestled, / And waterfalls within the park, / And two big dragonflies that rested / Atop the fence corroded...»
«Each and every day, I get / One letter, like a bride. / I’m responding to my friend, / Writing late at night: “On my way into the dark, / I’ve stopped in white death’s den. / My dear, — don’t leave an evil mark / On another man.” And a brilliant star gleams / Between tw...»