Now the pillow’s
Hot on both sides.
A second candle
Dies, the ravens cry
Endlessly.
No sleep all night,
Too late to think of sleep...
How unbearably white
The blind’s white deep.
Hello, Morning!
Подушка уже горяча
С обеих сторон.
Вот и вторая свеча
Гаснет, и крик ворон
Становится всё слышней.
Я эту ночь не спала,
Поздно думать о сне...
Как нестерпимо бела
Штора на белом окне.
Здравствуй!
«Just now I smeared the map of the daily grind, / splashing paint out of a glass; / I revealed the sharp cheek-bones of the ocean / on a platter of jellied meat. / I read the summons of new lips / on the scales of a tin fish. / And you / could you / play a nocturne / on a drain-pipe...»
«I’ll sew myself a pair of black trousers / from the velvet of my voice. / A yellow smock from three yards of sunset. / I’ll saunter along the Nevsky Prospect of the world, / along its polished strips, / with the step of Don Juan and a fop. Let the earth, gone to seed from neglect, ye...»
«A / street. / Mastiff / faces / sharp- / er / than years. O- / ver / iron horses / the first cubes leapt / from the windows of running houses. / Swans of bell necks / curve themselves in nooses of cables! / In the sky a cartoon giraffe is about / to show off motley rusty ...»
«When the noisy day quiets down / and the translucent shadow of night descends / on the muted streets of the city, / sleep–the reward for the day’s works – is granted to normal men. / But for me, agonizing hours of insomnia / drag by in silence. / In the dead stillness my conscience...»