The fifth of the year’s seasons
One can’t extol it enough.
Breathe before freedom ceases,
All because, it is — love.
High up, the sky elevates,
The contours of things are light,
And the body won’t celebrate
The anniversary of its plight.
То пятое время года,
Только его славословь.
Дыши последней свободой,
Оттого, что это — любовь.
Высоко небо взлетело,
Легки очертанья вещей,
И уже не празднует тело
Годовщину грусти своей.
«In those primal days when God Almighty / Bent His face over the fresh world — then / The word made the sun stand still in heaven, / The word tore apart the towns of men. And when the word — like a pink flame burning — / Floated freely in the highest flight, / Eagles did not stir the...»
«He did not lie to us, that spirit, mournfully severe, / Whose name was borrowed from the morning star, / When he said: "Don't fear requital from above; / Taste the fruit, and you will be as gods." For youths all roads were opened, / For elders — all forbidden works, / For girls — ambe...»
«He did not lie — the ghost, so sad and thoughtful, / That from a star took his name by a chance, / When he had said, “Don’t fear the Lord”, to us, / “Just try the fruit and be like Him immortal”. All routs for youths were opened in glow, / And all forbidden works – for older ...»
«That sad-strict spirit then did not dissemble – / The one who called himself the morning star – / When uttered he: “Fear not the highest’s bar, / Just eat the fruit, and you’ll the gods resemble.” To young men then all highways stretched before them, / And old men were relieved ...»