This evening's light is golden bright,
The April's coolness is so tender,
Though you are many years too late,
I still do welcome you to enter.
Right next to me why don't you sit
And look with happy eyes around.
This little notebook has in it
The poems written in my childhood.
Forgive me that I've lived and mourned,
And was not grateful for the sun rays...
Forgive me please, forgive me for
I have mistaken you for others...
Широк и жёлт вечерний свет,
Нежна апрельская прохлада.
Ты опоздал на много лет,
Но все-таки тебе я рада.
Сюда ко мне поближе сядь,
Гляди весёлыми глазами:
Вот эта синяя тетрадь —
С моими детскими стихами.
Прости, что я жила скорбя
И солнцу радовалась мало.
Прости, прости, что за тебя
Я слишком многих принимала.
«If I had known what would come later. / When first my stage career began. / The words will take to blood and slaughter. / Go for the throat and kill a man, To play with such a tangled living, / Point-blank refusal Pd have made, — / So far away was my beginning / My first concern was s...»
«In spring before the dawn we see / Heaps in the kitchen garden, / As pagans for fertility / Their festal altars burden. The fresh-cut clods flame in my plot; / In steams at early morning, / And all the earth becomes red-hot / Just like an oven burning. I cast aside this shirt of mine /...»
«This spring there is a change in everything. / More lively is the sparrows' riot. / I shall not even try to tell of it, / How bright my soul is and how quiet. My thoughts and writings are quite different, / And from the choir's loud octaves singing / The mighty voice of earth is audible /...»
«The drowsy garden scatters insects / Bronze as the ash from braziers blown. / Level with me and with my candle, / Hang flowering worlds, their leaves full grown. As into some unheard-of dogma / I move across into this night. / Where a worn poplar age has grizzled / Screens the moon’s ...»