2
Over a pier, the first beacon inflamed —
The vanguard of other sea-rangers;
The mariner cried and bared his head;
He sailed with death beside and ahead
In seas, packed with furious dangers.
3
By our doors Great Victory stay...
But how we'll glory her advent?
Let women lift higher the children! They blessed
With life mid a thousand thousands deaths —
Thus will be the dearest answered.
1
Славно начато славное дело
В грозном грохоте, в снежной пыли,
Где томится пречистое тело
Оскверненной врагами земли.
К нам оттуда родные березы
Тянут ветки и ждут и зовут,
И могучие деды-морозы
С нами сомкнутым строем идут.
2
Вспыхнул над молом первый маяк,
Других маяков предтеча,—
Заплакал и шапку снял моряк,
Что плавал в набитых смертью морях
Вдоль смерти и смерти навстречу.
3
Победа у наших стоит дверей...
Как гостью желанную встретим?
Пусть женщины выше поднимут детей,
Спасенных от тысячи тысяч смертей,—
Так мы долгожданной ответим.
«Lady’s hands were washed and serviced, / Lady’s hands were strongly stirred, / This good Lady didn’t forget, else, / A red neck that was cut here. Poor Lady, with her fears, / Shakes in her bed like a birdie. / She didn’t sleep for hundred years — / I didn’t — for six y»
«Peace to the earth of the evens and sinners! / Barriers, glasses, and pools are in a glow. / I go under the rain’s flows, thinnest, / My shoulders — wet and my hat is all raw. / Now we all are the homeless bastards, / As if we always were vagabonds here, / And it sings to us — th...»
«Thank God! Just "wise", without "super", — / I stroll among my humble verse, / Like a severe abbot, stooped, / Among the monks, he’s led and nursed. / I tend my flock, so good and ardent, / With a fair stuff — I tend my herd. / The keys of a mysterious garden / Jingle calmly at...»
«My friend, my friend / I am so very sick! / I myself don’t know from where this pain took hold / Whether the wind whistles / Over the empty and unpeopled field / Or whether, like a grove in September / Alcohol overthrows my brains My head flaps its ears / Like a bird flaps its wings...»