So again we triumph!
Again we do not come!
Our speeches silent,
Our words, dumb.
Our eyes that have not met
Again, are lost;
And only tears forget
The grip of frost.
A wild-rose bush near Moscow
Knows something of
This pain that will be called
Immortal love.
Таинственной невстречи
Пустынны торжества,
Несказанные речи,
Безмолвные слова.
Нескрещенные взгляды
Не знают, где им лечь.
И только слезы рады,
Что можно долго течь.
Шиповник Подмосковья,
Увы! при чем-то тут...
И это всё любовью
Бессмертной назовут.
«I don’t regret, I don’t call, I don’t cry. / All will pass like smoke from white apple trees. / Overcome with the gold of wilting, / I won’t be young anymore. / / Touched with cold, you will no longer / Beat in the same way, heart, / And the land of birch chintz / Won’t te...»
«Are you still alive, my dear old lady? / I’m alive as well. Hello, hello! / Let that ineffable evening light / Keep streaming over your hut. / / They write to me that, barely hiding your fear, / You’ve gotten awfully sad over me, / That you often wander the road / In your tatter...»
«High water has licked / The silt with smoke. / The moon has dropped / Its yellow reins. / / Paddling a punt, / I bump into banks. / Red haystacks by the fence rails / Look like churches. / / With mournful cawing / In the silence of marshes / The black grouse / Is calling ...»
«Is it my fault that I’m a poet / Of heavy suffering and bitter fate? / After all, it wasn’t my choice — / It’s just the way I came into the world. / / Is it my fault that I don’t cherish life, / That I love and simultaneously hate everyone, / And know things about myself I d...»