To N.G. Chulkova
There are such days before the spring:
When meadows rest beneath the snow,
And dry and cheerful branches swing
When gentle warm winds blow.
You marvel at your body’s lightness
And do not recognize your home,
You sing again with new excitement
The song that once seemed tiresome.
Н. Г. Чулковой
Перед весной бывают дни такие:
Под плотным снегом отдыхает луг,
Шумят деревья весело-сухие,
И тёплый ветер нежен и упруг.
И лёгкости своей дивится тело,
И дома своего не узнаёшь,
А песню ту, что прежде надоела,
Как новую, с волнением поёшь.
«No, I can’t ever forget / your child’s mouth, your girl’s glance, / bold — I dream of you, / I speak, I think of you — always — like rhythm. I feel vast oceans / heaving as the moon yaws, / and whole galaxies, burning, / swinging as they have always swung, will always swing....»
«Being drawn into earthly passions, / I vision as from gloom to light / Once, dressed in black, Dark Angel rushes / To cry: "Salvation is a lie!" Yet, unassuming and lighthearted, / Delightful as a noble deed, / Comes angel from the white department / To add that hope is true indeed.»
«To Vl. Motyl As a child, I was convinced / that from all conditions / Potion of the Danish Prince / is the most efficient. / And that faith is burning since / brighter every year... / Potion of the Danish Prince / Savor, cavalier! Potion of this Prince or King / is as sweet as cand...»
«They're yet to be fitted, your veil and your gown, / And chanters to bless us for life, / But hurries time — dare-driver renowned! — / And horses are eager to fly. If only the ding-bells were angels safeguarding, / The sleigh were by tracks to abide! / Two buddies forever, devotion an...»