But I warn you
That I am alive for the last time.
Neither as sparrow, nor maple.
Nor reed, nor star,
Nor spring water,
Nor bells in a tower —
I will not embarrass people
By visiting in strange dreams
With unquenchable moans.
Но я предупреждаю вас,
Что я живу в последний раз.
Ни ласточкой, ни кленом,
Ни тростником и ни звездой,
Ни родниковою водой,
Ни колокольным звоном —
Не буду я людей смущать
И сны чужие навещать
Неутоленным стоном.
«To kiss the brow — eases all anxiety. / I kiss the brow. To kiss the eyes — cures insomnia’s misery. / I kiss the eyes. To kiss the lips — one’s no longer thirsty. / I kiss the lips. To kiss the brow — erases memory. / I kiss the brow.»
«After a night of insomnia, the body slows: / Dear, but not his, not anyone’s — to have. / In sluggish veins the moan of arrows, / You smile at everyone, like a seraph. After a night of insomnia, arms hang low, / You’re indifferent to friend or enemy, / In every random sound there’...»
«Why such tenderness? / Not the first — these curls / I stroke, I’ve known, yes, / Lips much darker than yours. As stars fade and rise, / — Why such tenderness? / Eyes have risen / And faded to my eyes. Yet with no such song / Have I heard night darker / Crowned — O tender...»
«Two suns grow cool — Oh Lord, give rest! / One — in the sky, one — in my breast. How those two suns — can conscience free me? — / How those two suns scorched me madly! Both grow cool — neither pains the eye! / And the hotter one is the first to die.»