A widow in black — the crying fall
Covers all hearts with a depressing cloud...
While her man's words are clearly recalled,
She will not stop her lamentations loud.
It will be so, until the snow puff
Will give a mercy to the pined and tired.
Forgetfulness of suffering and love —
Though paid by life — what more could be desired?
Заплаканная осень, как вдова
В одеждах черных, все сердца туманит.
Перебирая мужнины слова,
Она рыдать не перестанет.
И будет так, пока тишайший снег
Не сжалится над скорбной и усталой...
Забвенье боли и забвенье нег —
За это жизнь отдать не мало.
«Longing, desires still ravage / my soul which strives to reach you. / In recollection's twilight / I try to catch your image. / I can't forget your face. / It is a lovely constellation, / timeless, in every place, / unreachable, not knowing fluctuation.»
«Not everyone can sing, / Not everyone can fall / Like an apple at a stranger's feet. This is the greatest confession, / That a hooligan can have. I go unkempt on purpose, / With my head, like a kerosene lamp, on my shoulders. / The leafless autumn, your souls in darkness — / I love t...»
«I have not heard the tales of Ossian, / I have not tasted age-old wine — / why then do I seem to see a field / and Scotland's murderous moon? And in the sinister silence I seem to hear / the roll-call of the raven and the harp, / and, streaming in the wind, the scarves of men-at-arms / ...»
«For joy’s sake, from my hands, / take some honey and some sun, / as Persephone’s bees told us. Not to be freed, the unmoored boat. / Not to be heard, fur-booted shadows. / Not to be silenced, life’s dark terrors. Now we only have kisses, / dry and bristling like bees, / that die ...»