Not weeks, not months, — it took us years
To separate. And finally, today,
We feel true freedom’s gentle breeze
And the wreaths on our heads are gray.
There are no more betrayals or treason,
And you don’t have to listen all night
To the streaming current of reasons
That prove me indisputably right.
Не недели, не месяцы — годы
Расставались. И вот наконец
Холодок настоящей свободы
И седой над висками венец.
Больше нет ни измен, ни предательств,
И до света не слушаешь ты,
Как струится поток доказательств
Несравненной моей правоты.
«Lord, send your comfort / to him who, during summerТs scorching heat, / like some poor beggar past a garden, / along a hot road drags his weary feet, who gazes in passing across a fence / at the shades of trees, at valleysТ golden grain / and at the inaccessible coolness / of softly b...»
«When natureТs final hour strikes / and earthly matter has disintegrated, / the visible universe will be flooded. / In the waters GodТs face will be reflected.»
«Est in arundineis modulatio musica ripis. The sea is harmony. / Shapely in debate, all elements cohere. / Rustling in the river's reeds, / musical designs inhere. Imperturbable form is the outward sign / of nature's utter consonance. / Only our spectral liberty / imparts a sense of dis...»
«She was sitting on the floor / sorting letters which were old, / holding them before she threw them out / like ash gone cold. Her look was strange / while she held those pages she knew so well, / as if she were a soul which peered down / at its abandoned shell. So many irreversible eve...»