My husband beat me with the plating
Of a belt he bent in two.
With a candle, I keep waiting
On the windowsill for you.
It is dawning. Smoke is weaving,
Rising up above the forge.
O, for me, a captive grieving,
You, again, did not emerge.
It’s for you such fate I bear,
Filled with torment and ordeal,
Did you fall for someone fair?
Does a redhead now appeal?
How to mask such ringing moaning!
Heart is stifled, drunk with dread,
As the thin rays of the morning
Graze the still unrumpled bed.
Муж хлестал меня узорчатым,
Вдвое сложенным ремнём.
Для тебя в окошке створчатом
Я всю ночь сижу с огнём.
Рассветает. И над кузницей
Подымается дымок.
Ах, со мной, печальной узницей,
Ты опять побыть не мог.
Для тебя я долю хмурую,
Долю-муку приняла.
Или любишь белокурую,
Или рыжая мила?
Как мне скрыть вас, стоны звонкие!
В сердце темный, душный хмель,
А лучи ложатся тонкие
На несмятую постель.
«On pavements I will pound them out / Of sun and glass combined; / In winter, let the loft resound / As mildewed corners read my lines. The attic will itself declaim, / With bow to wintry window frame, / And up to ledge and roof will rise / A leap of wonders, woes, and signs. A month an...»
«My age, my beast, who can / Gaze into your pupils / And with his blood cement / The vertebrae of two centuries? Blood the Builder gushes / From the throat of earthly things, / The parasite must tremble / On the threshold of new days. A creature drags its backbone / As long as it's al...»
«They don't wait for letters, / For a letter they wait. / A shred of rag / Around a braid / Of glue. Within — a word. / And happiness. And this - is all. Thus they don't wait for joy, / Thus they wait for the end: / A soldier's salute / And into the chest — lead / Three pieces...»
«I opened my veins. Unstoppably / life spurts out with no remedy. / Now I set out bowls and plates. / Every bowl will be shallow. / Every plate will be small. / And overflowing their rims, / into the black earth, to nourish / the rushes unstoppably / without...»