When you’re drunk, you’re so much fun —
Your rambling tales make no sense.
The early fall arrived and hung
Bright yellow flags upon the elms.
In the land of fraud and guile,
We have strayed, and now, repent,
But, what are these fictitious smiles,
On our lips, so strangely bent?
Not happiness or peace of mind,
A biting torment — we pursued…
I will not leave my friend behind, —
So tender and so dissolute.
Мне с тобою пьяным весело —
Смысла нет в твоих рассказах.
Осень ранняя развесила
Флаги жёлтые на вязах.
Оба мы в страну обманную
Забрели и горько каемся,
Но зачем улыбкой странною
И застывшей улыбаемся?
Мы хотели муки жалящей
Вместо счастья безмятежного…
Не покину я товарища
И беспутного и нежного.
«How it is fresh beneath a shady lime-tree! / To the midday sun this place is out of reach, / And lots of fragrant fans in such a lone country / Are heaving lushed while rather chilly each. And over there, in a distance, the dry hot air / Is glittering in a drowsy upright stream, / ...»
«Swallows have already gone. / Yesterday’s sunset / Flickered rooks around the barn, / Whether anxious or for fun / Made a living net. Darkness is inducing sleep / Coming to the yard. / Fallen leaves are laid in heap. / Angry winds in chimneys weep, / Strike the windows hard. ...»
«I have got tired of chatting about something bombastic; / All these discussions entail only yawning in me... / Running from pedants for talking with you I am eagerly rushing; / Sure am I, — in your eyes, clear and clever black eyes, / There's more beauty than you find in a hundred o...»
«Once we all used to abide / together with God, side by side, / He didn't dwell in the sky, / we'd see him from time to time / alive, on the mausoleum. / He was much more clever and evil / than that other God, the old one, / known to the world as Jehovah, / whom he overthrew with a cr...»