I wrung my hands under my dark veil…
«Why are you pale, what makes you reckless?»
— Because I have made my loved one drunk
with an astringent sadness.
I’ll never forget. He went out, reeling;
his mouth was twisted, desolate . . .
I ran downstairs, not touching the banisters,
and followed him as far as the gate.
And shouted, choking: «I meant it all
in fun. Don’t leave me, or I’ll die of pain.»
He smiled at me — oh so calmly, terribly —
and said: «Why don’t you get out of the rain?»
Сжала руки под темной вуалью...
«Отчего ты сегодня бледна?» —
Оттого, что я терпкой печалью
Напоила его допьяна.
Как забуду? Он вышел, шатаясь,
Искривился мучительно рот...
Я сбежала, перил не касаясь,
Я бежала за ним до ворот.
Задыхаясь, я крикнула: «Шутка
Все, что было. Уйдешь, я умру».
Улыбнулся спокойно и жутко
И сказал мне: «Не стой на ветру».
«The scarlet of the dawn has woven on the lake. / In the pine forest the wood grouse are crying with ringing. There is an oriole crying somewhere, having hidden in the hollow. / But only I cannot cry — it is light on my soul. I know, by evening you'll come out by the ring of roads, / We'll ...»
«The high waters have licked / The bed with smoke. / The half moon has dropped / Its yellow reigns. I'm sailing a boat, / Colliding with the banks. / The churches have / Orange spires by the spinning wheel. With gloomy chirping / In the silence of the swamps / A black wood grouse / ...»
«The birch tree / Below my window / Has covered herself with snow, / Like with silver. On the thick branches / With a snowy trim / Have bloomed the tassels / Of white fringes. And there stands the birch tree / In a sleepy silence, / And there burn the snowflakes / In the golden fi...»
«Silence. In the junipers atop the valley, / Autumn — a roam mare — rubs her mane for dressing. Well above the wooded river banks — / That's the dark blue clang her horseshoes make. Wind, a monk, walks past with wary footsteps / Holding back the foliage on the pathways, Kissing, when h...»