Her dry lips were tightly closed up.
Three thousand candles swayed.
Thus Princess Eudoxia lay atop
The scented, sapphire brocade.
A tearless mother, bowing down,
Prayed to her for her blind son,
And a voiceless hysteric thrashed about
Lapping for air on the run.
And he, who arrived from the south,
A hunchbacked old man with dark eyes,
Clenched the wall of the stairway, worn out,
Like the door into paradise.
Плотно сомкнуты губы сухие,
Жарко пламя трех тысяч свечей.
Так лежала княжна Евдокия
На душистой сапфирной парче.
И, согнувшись, бесслезно молилась
Ей о слепеньком мальчике мать,
И кликуша без голоса билась,
Воздух силясь губами поймать.
А пришедший из южного края
Черноглазый, горбатый старик,
Словно к двери небесного рая,
К потемневшей ступеньке приник.
«Burdened with family feelings, I went / To my aunt's place, / to see my uncle, To press my girl cousins to my breast, / Who were so carried away, / as it happened, / By music a...»
«On the pavement / of my trampled soul / the soles of madmen / stamp the prints of rude, crude words. / Where cities / hang / and in the noose of clouds / the towers’ / crooked spires / congeal — / I go / and solitary weep / that cross-roads / crucify / policemen.»
«It seems, I shall never grow accustomed / to sitting in the “Bristol,” / drinking tea, / lying by the line — / I shall upset the glasses, / clamber on the table / “Listen / literary brothers! / You sit, / eyes drowning in tea, / your velvet elbows worn with scribbling. / ...»
«Beat on the street the march of rebellion, / sweeping over the heads of the proud; / we, the flood of a second deluge, / shall wash the world like a bursting cloud. Days are a bright steed. / Years drag glum. / Our great god is Speed! / Our heart a bellowing drum! What is richer than o...»