You will think about her as about your first bride,
To the point of tears in your dreams.
We did not inhale her fragrance together,
And you did not bring her to me.
She was brought to me
By that winged ruler of gods and muses,
When the peals of the first thunder
Glorified our terrible union.
That union that is called separation
And is torment to the hundredth power,
That is the purest and blackest of all.
Ты о ней как о первой невесте
Будешь думать во сне и до слез...
Мы ее не вдыхали вместе,
И не ты мне ее принес.
Мне принес ее тот крылатый
Повелитель богов и муз,
Когда первого грома раскаты
Прославляли наш страшный союз.
Тот союз, что зовут разлукой,
И какою-то сотою мукой,
Что всех чище и всех черней.
«No one will be in the house / But twilight. Just the same / Winter day in the gap / The gathered curtains frame. Only swiftly beating wings / Of white flakes as they fall. / Only roofs and snow, and but / For roofs and snow — no one at all. And frost again will start too sketch. / ...»
«There'll be no one in the house / Save for twilight. All alone, / Winter's day seen in the space that's / Made by curtains left undrawn. Only flash-past of the wet white / Snowflake clusters, glimpsed and gone. / Only roofs and snows, and save for / Roofs and snow — no one at home. O...»
«In the house there will be no one / But the duskiness; alone, / Winter day will still be showing / Through the curtains left undrawn. Only snow lumps will be reeling / In a white and flashy spin, / Only roofs, and snow, and really / No one else that can be seen... Frost again will stre...»
«Out of the smoky air now are plucked down / Stars for the past week frozen in flight. / Head over heels reels the skaters' club, / Clinking its rink with the glass of the night. Slower, slower, skater, step slow-er, / Cutting the curve as you swerve by. / Every turn a constellation / Sc...»