My night — I think of you obsessively,
My day — indifferent: let it be!
I turned and smiled at my destiny
That brought me only misery.
The fumes of yesterday are dire,
The flames that burn me will not die,
It seems to me, this blazing fire
Will not become a sunlit sky.
Shall I endure without conceding,
And curse you for not being there?..
You’re far away. You’ll never see me
Imprisoned in my awful snare.
Ночь моя — бред о тебе,
День — равнодушное: пусть!
Я улыбнулась судьбе,
Мне посылающей грусть.
Тяжек вчерашний угар,
Скоро ли я догорю,
Кажется, этот пожар
Не превратится в зарю.
Долго ль мне бится в огне,
Дальнего тайно кляня?..
В страшной моей западне
Ты не увидишь меня.
«"Why is the moon shining so dimly / on the gardens and walls of Horossan? / As if I'm walking the Russian plain / Under the rustling mantle of the fog", — I asked that dear Lala, / Of the silent cypress at night, / But my host didn't whisper a word, / But rather raised their proud hea...»
«Silly heart, don't beat! / We are all deceived by happiness, / Only the beggar asks for sympathy... / Sily heart, don't beat. The yellow charms of the half moon / Are pouring by the chesnuts in the glade. / Bending to Lala on shalvari, / I'll hide under the veil. / Silly heart, don't ...»
«Blue and merry land. / My honor is sold for a song. / Wind from the sea, blow quieter — / Do you hear, the nightingale is calling the rose? Do you hear the roses bending — / The song will return to the heart. / Wind from the sea, blow quieter — / Do you hear, the nightingale is ca...»
«to A. Sakharov That hurricane has passed. Few of have survived. / At the roll call of friendship many are absent. / Again I have returned to the deserted land, / Where I have not been for eight years. Who shall I call? With whom can I share / The melancholy joy, that I stayed alive? / Th...»