(For Dmitri Shostakovich)
Something miraculous burns in music;
as you watch, its edges crystallize.
Only music speaks to me
when others turn away their eyes.
When fearful friends abandoned me
music stayed, even at my grave,
and sang like earth’s first shower of rain
or flowers suddenly everywhere alive.
Д. Д. Ш.
В ней что-то чудотворное горит,
И на глазах её края граня́тся.
Она одна со мною говорит,
Когда другие подойти боятся.
Когда последний друг отвёл глаза,
Она была со мной в моей могиле
И пела словно первая гроза
Иль будто все́ цветы заговорили.
«The way it used to be, my soul is lighted / By the unfading glow of bygone days. / But early autumn, like a wistful haze, / Has blown a whiff, despairing and blighted. / Dark night. We"re going separate ways. / / The sound is distinct, the way it used to be, / And all my sins are in ...»
«My earthly heart gets cold and all, / But I sustain the shivers boldly. / I keep my love of people fondly, / Unanswered reverence, in my soul. / / But love is followed by discord / Which ripens into strong intention / To read oblivion or award / In men's and ladies reflection. / ...»
«As I was growing old and fading, / A poet, used to streaks of grey, / I wanted to postpone the ending / The aged men should face some day. / / A sickly man, a puny creature, / I'm looking for a lucky star, / And in my senile dreams I picture / A lovely image, now so far. / / Pe...»
«With inspiration and such sweetness / The princess sang about May. / I said: "Just wait, my dear princess, / You"ll have to cry for me some day". / / She cuddled to me drawing near / And said: "Oh no, forgive me, pray. / Go fighting sword in hand, my dear. / I will safeguard you on...»