A heavy shroud is placed onto the ground,
The bells are droning in a solemn show,
The spirit is again confused and troubled
By weary boredom of the Tsarskoe Selo.
Five years have passed. And all is dumb and dead here,
The world has reached the end, it seems.
The theme exhausted for all time is set here,
The palace rests now in a mortal dream.
На землю саван тягостный возложен,
Торжественно гудят колокола,
И снова дух смятен и потревожен
Истомой скуки Царского Села.
Пять лет прошло. Здесь все мертво и немо,
Как будто мира наступил конец.
Как навсегда исчерпанная тема,
В смертельном сне покоится дворец.
«Do you remember? In the harbor passive, / Just where green water calmly sleeps, / Set in the column, strong and massive, / Appeared navy's silent ships. All four were gray. And many questions / Were shortly overwhelming us, / And sailors, very tanned and fashioned, / To shore in solemn ...»
«The earthly heart quit freezes blood, / But, with my breast, I meet great cold. / I bear on the empty road / The virgin love to all mankind. But, behind love, grow the wrath, / Heavy derision, and desire / To read in eyes of all entire / Oblivion or the final choice. And let they call,...»
«To S. Soloviev The faithless shadows of day are running / And high and clear is the call of bells, / Steps of the church are blazed as with the lightning, / Their stones are alive and wait for your light steps. You'll here pass and touch the chilly stone, / That's dressed in awful sanity...»
«A flame's in skies. The night lays dead and grey. / The wood's high trees are crowding around, / But in the night I clear hear sound — / The hum of mobs in city faraway. One can detect the set of buildings, bold, / And towers and teeth of its austere loop-holes, / And shady gardens in ...»