By the early sunrise seized,
I sing of love aloud,
In the garden, on my knees
Weeding goosefoot out.
I tear it out and I hurl —
Pardon this offense.
I see a little barefoot girl
Crying by the fence.
Voice of sorrow rings and swells,
Filling me with dread,
Stronger grows the tepid smell
Of the weed now dead.
Stone, not bread, will be my prize
To accept with poise,
Up above me, just the skies,
And with me, your voice.
Я на солнечном восходе
Про любовь пою,
На коленях в огороде
Лебеду полю.
Вырываю и бросаю —
Пусть простит меня.
Вижу, девочка босая
Плачет у плетня.
Страшно мне от звонких воплей
Голоса беды,
Всё сильнее запах тёплый
Мёртвой лебеды.
Будет камень вместо хлеба
Мне наградой злой.
Надо мною только небо,
А со мною голос твой.
«Christ and God! I am longing for a miracle / Now, now, at the beginning of the day / Oh, let me die, until / All my life is like a book for me. You are wise, you won't say strictly: / "Have patience, it is not the time yet" / You gave me yourself — too much! / I am longing at once —...»
«It drizzled, but not even grasses / Would bend within the bag of storm; / Dust only gulped its rain in pellets, / The iron roof — in powder form. The village did not hope for healing. / Deep as a swoon the poppies yearned / Among the rye in inflammation, / And God in fever tossed and ...»
«Black spring! Pick up your pen, and weeping, / Of February, in sobs and ink, / Write poems, while the slush in thunder / Is burning in the black of spring. Through clanking wheels, through church bells ringing / A hired cab will take you where / The town has ended, where the showers ...»
«The Lord has rewarded me / With a light-filled and iron heart. / With a gift of singing, a tearful gift. The Lord has protected me / With a white flag. / The Lord has passed me by / With the carnal flame. Hold higher the flag! / The Lord above us! / Heavier than stone — / The...»