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.
«For four years on end / Immortal was I. / For four years on end / Light-hearted was I. / For I never knew I would die one fine day, / For I never knew I would not live for aye. You who know how to make life sweet and pleasant, / Like children, immortal — believe not in death; / Deat...»
«Stirred by the first faint ice-free pulse, / The forest, grumbling, clings to winter's sleep / But spring's own pearls, strung onto threads of green / Quiver with life at every breath of wind. Like tender human babe in swaddling clothes / The newborn nestled in her funneled leaf, / And no...»
«On every clock this message you can find — / Its simple words a truth profound contains — / Who squanders time, casts honour to the wind, / Though Time expires, your conscience will remain. It dwells within the soul, not heeding hours; / Repentance always comes a bit too late, / While...»
«We're few, perhaps three, hellish fellows / Who hail from the flaming Donetz, / With a fluid gray bark for our cover / Made of rain-clouds and soldiers' soviets / And verses and endless debates / About art or it may be freight rates. We used to be people. We're epochs. / Pell-mell we ru...»