An as it's going often at love's breaking,
The ghost of first days came again to us,
The silver willow through window then stretched in,
The silver beauty of her gentle branches.
The bird began to sing the song of light and pleasure
To us, who fears to lift looks from the earth,
Who are so lofty, bitter and intense,
About days when we were saved together.
И, как всегда бывает в дни разрыва,
К нам постучался призрак первых дней,
И ворвалась серебряная ива
Седым великолепием ветвей.
Нам, исступленным, горьким и надменным,
Не смеющим глаза поднять с земли,
Запела птица голосом блаженным
О том, как мы друг друга берегли.
«We heard him say, "I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and within three days I will build another made without hands." / -Mark 14:58 I've reared a monument not built by human hands. / The public path to it cannot be overgrown. / With insubmissive head far loftier it stands / ...»
«Storm has set the heavens scowling, / Whirling gusty blizzards wild, / Now they are like beasts a-growling, / Now a-wailing like a child; / Now along the brittle thatches / They will scud with rustling sound, / Now against the window latches / Like belated wanderers pound. Our frail h...»
«O'er the earth a storm is prowling, / Bringing whirling, blinding snow. / Like a beast I hear it howling, / Like an infant wailing low. / Now the thatch it rustles, playing / On our roof; now at our pane / Raps like someone homeward straying / And behighted in the plain. Old our hut i...»
«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...»