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.
«The violin got all worked up, imploring / then suddenly burst into sobs, / so child-like / that the drum couldn’t stand it: / "All right, all right, all right!" / But then he got tired, / couldn’t wait till the violin ended, / slipped out on the burning Kuznetsky / and took fligh...»
«(Instead of a letter) Tobacco smoke eats the air away. / The room, — / a chapter from Kruchenykh’s Inferno. / Recall, — / by the window, / that day, / I caressed you ecstatically, with fervor. / Here you sit now, / with your heart in iron armor. / In a day, / you’ll scol...»
«In lieu of a letter The room’s a chapter of Kruchonykh’s Inferno. / Air / gnawed out by tobacco smoke. / Remember – / At the window, / For the first time, / Burning, / With tender frenzy your arms I’d stroke. Now you’re sitting there, / Heart in armour; / A day, / And...»
«Instead of a letter Tobacco smoke corroded the air. / The room — / is a chapter in Kruchenykh’s hell. / Remember — / this window, / Here / I stroked your hands in a frenzy. / Well, / Your heart encased in iron. / Reviling, / You’ll throw me out, perhaps, / one day. / ...»