And once more the autumn blasts like Tamerlane,
There is silence in the streets of Arbat.
Beyond the little station or beyond the haze
The impassable road is dark.
So here it is, the latest one! And the rage
Subsides. It's as if the world had gone deaf...
A mighty, evangelical old age
And that most bitter Gethsemane sigh.
И снова осень валит Тамерланом,
В арбатских переулках тишина.
За поулстанком или за туманом
Дорога непроезжая черна.
Так вот она, последняя! И ярость
Стихает. Все равно что мир оглох...
Могучая евангельская старость
И тот горчайший гефсиманский вздох.
«Laughing, delighting, and rebelling / In all her hopeless, endless angst, / In Mahendzhauri, near Batumi / She stood out lonely on the sand. She was so dignified and proud — / She thought herself a river, and / She naked went into the water / And touched the sea foam with her hand. R...»
«A white and lonely sail is flickering / Across the blue fog of the sea / What does he seek in far-off distance? / What did he leave in home country? The waves are playing — wind is whistling, / The mast of ship does bend and moan.. / Alas — happiness he's not seeking / Nor does fro...»
«There is a God, yes, but He left the room / before the vote. He didn't say He'd do / a thing like that, but did it anyhow, / and simply turned our spirits upside down. / Without God, you can't cope, but He'll ignore / our queries such as "why?", "whatever for?" / and "what comes next?", ...»
«Two girls were tossing dahlias while passing. / They tossed them sparingly upon the lane. / The women shook their heads and said with sadness: / "Bouquets are pricey now — it's such a shame..." / / The street looked on with hungry discomposure. / They watched the little girls who led ...»