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.
«to N. Goon I haven't lived so long as you... / I've sung while you've been down and out. / A spirit came out of the blue / To show the sea of ample sound... / / Your soul is chained stirred by the blast / Of storm and whirlwind wailing there, / While mine is free, as fine as...»
«You were the fairest of all, no denying, / Please, don"t curse me and, pray, don't disgrace! / My train, like the song of a gipsy, is flying, / Like those irrevocable days... / / What I loved is gone by, disappeared... / Up ahead is a hidden way... / Unforgettable, blessed and rever...»
«The way she did before, she wanted / To breathe her life into my heart, / Into my body, all exhausted, / Into my chilly habitat. / / She came along like welkin, / I couldn't rise from bed to go, / Nor could I stir my arm to welcome / And tell her I had missed her so!... / / I ...»
«to S. Solovyov Obscure daily shadows run about. / The sound of the bells is clear and high. / The stairs of the church are shining out, / Alive, they're waiting for you to come by. / / As you step in you'll touch a boulder, faintly, / Clad in the gruesome virtue of the past, / ...»