We thought we were beggars, we thought we had nothing at all
But then when we started to lose one thing after another,
Each day became
A memorial day —
And then we made songs
Of great divine generosity
And of our former riches.
Думали: нищие мы, нету у нас ничего,
А как стали одно за другим терять,
Так, что сделался каждый день
Поминальным днем, —
Начали песни слагать
О великой щедрости Божьей
Да о нашем бывшем богатстве.
«Let the nightingale resound, / Let us feel the first light’s gaze, / Let me wrap my arm, stretched out, / In the gloom, around your waist. The canoe will drift by, lazy, / Past the swaying reeds, eclipsed, / You will fall to me, embracing, / Burning passion - on your lips. Sing for m...»
«I’m rushing in the darkness, in the glacial desert, / A moon is shining somewhere? Somewhere, there’s a sun? / Just the summer lightning flashed out in the distance, / Flashed — and quickly faded, died down in the dark, / Just the heart discerns now the faint and distant echo / Of th...»
«We were together at the time... / The fiddle sang, the night felt giddy... / I knew, back then, that you were — mine, / As hours passed, you grew more pretty... Through quiet brooks and furtive mist / Of female smiles, from the start, / The lips were yearning for a kiss, / The fiddle...»
«I neared my bliss. I walked among / The crimson lights of sunset’s dew, / A voice sang, to my heart, the song / Of sunrise that would soon ensue. / Of sunrise, when the evening glow / Just strove to fade, and stars shone bright, / When heaven’s seas began to flow, / While burning p...»