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.
«I have built a monument, marvellous, eternal, / higher than the Pyramids, harder than metal, / fierce gales and thunder will not shatter it, / nor will the flight of time erode it. So — not all of me will die; the finer part / will cheat death, free from all decay, / my fame will grow, ...»
«You stood there / in silence, / your sad gaze / full of feeling. / It brought to mind / the past I loved... / your last gaze / on earth for me. You vanished, / silent angel: / your grave, / celestial peace! / All earth’s memories / are there, / all the thoughts / of he...»
«O memory of the heart! You are stronger / than the sad memories of reason. / And often from a far-off country, / you bewitch me with your sweetness. / I remember the loved voice sounding. / I remember the eyes of azure. / I remember the careless / curling strands of golden hair. / My...»
«In those days, when life’s displays / moved me with their freshness still — / a young girl’s glance, the rustling glades, / the nightingale’s sweet midnight trill — / when elevated feelings shone, / freedom, glory, purest love, / and the Muse’s inspiration, / stirred profou...»