My youth was hard to endure.
With so much sorrow to bear.
How can a soul this poor
Be returned to You rich and fair?
A song of praise, long and elegant,
The flattering fate sings fervent.
Lord, Almighty! I’m negligent,
Always Your miserly servant.
Not a rose, not a blade of grass
Will I be Your garden, Father.
I tremble at every speck of dust,
At each word that a fool may utter.
Дал Ты мне молодость трудную.
Столько печали в пути.
Как же мне душу скудную
Богатой Тебе принести?
Долгую песню, льстивая,
О славе поет судьба,
Господи! я нерадивая,
Твоя скупая раба.
Ни розою, ни былинкою
Не буду в садах Отца.
Я дрожу над каждой соринкою,
Над каждым словом глупца.
«Rock and rock me, starry boat! / My head is weary of breaking waves! For too long I’ve lost my moorings, — / My head is weary of thinking: Of hymns — of laurels — of heroes — of hydras, — / My head is weary of pretensions! Lay me out among grasses and pine-needles, — / My he...»
«How this matter came to an end / Neither love nor friendship can say. / With every passing day you reply less directly, / With every passing day you disappear more deeply. Until, you’re undisturbed by anything now, / — Only the tree riffles its branches — / As if you’ve fallen int...»
«Early yet — to no longer be! / Early yet — to no longer burn! / Tenderness! A brutal lash / Of Underworld encounters. However deep your inclination — / The sky — is a fathomless vat! / O, for such a love it’s / Early yet — to not feel wounded! Life is alive with jealousy! /...»
«I’ll be late to our fixed / Appointment. Having stopped spring / In time, into the bargain — I’ll be grey. / You’ve fixated too much on this! I’ll walk for years — and never falter / In my Ophelia’s taste for bitter rue! / I’ll walk through hills — and hayricks, / I’...»