The land though not mine,
But forever in my memory,
And in the sea,
Tender icy and unsalted water.
On the bottom the sand is whiter than chalk,
And the air is drunk, like wine,
And the rosy body of the pine trees
Is naked at the sunset hour.
And the sunset itself in the waves of ether
Is such that cannot say
If it's the day's end, the world's end,
If it's mysteries mystery within me.
Земля хотя и не родная,
Но памятная навсегда,
И в море нежно-ледяная
И несоленая вода.
На дне песок белее мела,
А воздух пьяный, как вино,
И сосен розовое тело
В закатный час обнажено.
А сам закат в волнах эфира
Такой, что мне не разобрать,
Конец ли дня, конец ли мира,
Иль тайна тайн во мне опять.
«Extinguished gaiety of years, which sunk in madness, / Presses on me like a hangover restless. / But in my soul, foregoing pine / Becomes through time still stronger, like a wine. / My way is sad. Predicts me toile and woe – / The sea of future in a wrath and row. But, oh, my friends, I...»
«His eyes are like faded burdock. / He clasps the coins in his hands. / He was a glorious shepherd, / Now he sings of times past. / And in the corner, an old woman / Sheds tears in front of an icon. / She used to be his beloved, / His drunk nectar in a green meadow. / Dry dust coats t...»
«For A. Sakharov / / The storm has passed. Few of us survived. / Many are missing from friendship’s roll call. / I’ve returned to the orphaned region / I haven’t seen in eight years. / / Who should I call to? With whom should I share / The sad joy that I’m still alive? / ...»
«You remember, / Of course you remember it all. / You remember / How I stood by the wall, / How you walked nervously around the room / Throwing sharp words / In my face. / / You said / It was time to part ways, / That you had had enough / Of my manic life, / That it was time ...»