There is she, the fruit-bearing autumn!
Somewhat late they denounced her birth,
‘Cause for fifteen blessed springs I was molten
And could not rise myself from the earth.
Then I had recognized her, belated,
Pressed myself against her and embraced,
And the autumn to me, execrated,
Was in secret transmitting her grace.
Вот она, плодоносная осень!
Поздновато ее привели.
А пятнадцать блаженнейших весен
Я подняться не смела с земли.
Я так близко ее разгляыдела,
К ней припала, ее обняла,
А она в обреченное тело
Силу тайную тайно лила.
«For how long will you keep in hiding / Behind the fog, ye Russian star, / Or will you stay forever priding / In stark delusions, false, bizarre? / / Could it be true, your shining glory / Would scatter like a shooting star, / When faced with gazes, greedy, gory, / So keen to reach y...»
«In the calm night, in late summer, / How the stars grow blush in heaven! / Under their gloomy light rays / Sleepy wheatfields ripen, heaving... / How their golden waves are shining / In the calmness of the night, / They are drowsy, eerie silent, / Whitened by the bright moon light... /...»
«Nature is a sphinx. / The truer she kills you / with her eternal riddle, / it's more than likely, / for centuries, / the truer she has fooled you.»
«Lord, send your comfort / to him who, during summerТs scorching heat, / like some poor beggar past a garden, / along a hot road drags his weary feet, who gazes in passing across a fence / at the shades of trees, at valleysТ golden grain / and at the inaccessible coolness / of softly b...»