Do not speak of the north and its sadness
And a dread and malevolent fate.
Surely this is a festive occasion:
You and I, we are parting today.
Never mind that the moon will not haunt us,
And the dawn you and I will not meet.
I will shower you with gifts, my beloved,
Of a kind that have never been seen.
Take my wavering, dancing reflection
In the shimmery glass of a stream;
Take my gaze that the great, swooning stars
As they fall from the heavens arrests;
Take my voice, take its spent, broken echo,
Once so summery, youthful and fresh....
Take my gifts: they will help you to listen
Without pain to the gossiping birds
In the wet of a Moscow October,
And will turn autumn's gloom to the languor
And the sweetness of May.... O, my angel,
Think of me, think of me till the first
Flakes of snow start to waltz in the air....
Не стращай меня грозной судьбой
И великою северной скукой.
Нынче праздник наш первый с тобой,
И зовут этот праздник — разлукой.
Ничего, что не встретим зарю,
Что луна не блуждала над нами,
Я сегодня тебя одарю
Небывалыми в мире дарами:
Отраженьем моим на воде
В час, как речке вечерней не спится.
Взглядом тем, что падучей звезде
Не помог в небеса возвратиться,
Эхом голоса, что изнемог,
А тогда был и свежий, и летний, —
Чтоб ты слышать без трепета мог
Воронья подмосковного сплетни,
Чтобы сырость октябрьского дня
Стала слаще, чем майская нега...
Вспоминай же, мой ангел, меня,
Вспоминай хоть до первого снега.
«The poet teaches something, though / Not with the wisdom of his words, / A thing considerably more likely to / Either turn people off or to bore. Whether sweet or bitter, you will have / To test by tasting it on your own. Life; / We all have our own unkind fates: / He teaches us to kee...»
«Today I can see that your gaze is especially sad; / Your hands are especially slender, encircling your knees. / But listen to this: far away, far away, near Lake Chad / A giraffe paces elegantly. A figure of grace and a lifetime of bliss are his boon, / And a magical pattern adorns his magn...»
«Today I can see that your look is especially sad / And your arms are especially fragile, as if made of chaff. / Listen, my dear: far away, by the shores of Lake Chad, / Roams the exquisite giraffe. It was granted the gift of proportion, voluptuous grace, / And its skin is adorned with a pat...»
«Today I can see that your eyes are especially sad, / And the arms, that are hugging your knees, are so gentle, my love. / Just listen, in a faraway land by a lake called the Chad, / Wanders an elegant giraffe. His elegant body is shining in afternoon heat. / It's covered with a beautifu...»