And it seemed to me those fires
Were about me till dawn.
And I never learnt —
The colour of those eyes.
Everything was trembling, singing;
Were you my friend or enemy,
And winter was it, or summer?
...И мне показалось, что это огни
Со мною летят до рассвета,
И я не дозналась — какого они,
Глаза эти странные, цвета.
И все трепетало и пело вокруг,
И я не узнала — ты враг или друг,
Зима это или лето.
«My bag breaks / and everything falls to the floor. / It occurs to me / the world is a grin that flickers / on a hanged man’s dead face.»
«Winganging with golden writing / Of the thinnest veins, / The grasshopper put inside of his body sails / Many stems of riverside grass. / Pin-pin-pin! — a magpie’s blast. / Oh, swanarvel! / Oh, raise up!»
«Glitter-letter wing-winker / gossamer grasshopper / packs his belly-basket / with credo-meadow grass. / Zin! Zin! Zin! sings / the raucous racket-bird! / Swan-white wonder! / Brighter, brighter, bright!»
«Where the winking waxwings whistle / in the shadows of the cedars, / where the branches shake and shiver / the mockingbird minutes fly away;In the shadows of the cedars / a flock of flickers flutter, / where the branches shake and shiver / the swallows turn to seasons / as they fly awa...»