Why did you pollute the water,
with vileness adulterate my bread?
Why did you make the final freedom
into a den of thieves instead?
Was it because I did not mock
the bitter fate of friends?
Was it because I’d not betrayed
my piteous native land?
So be it. There can be no poet
without a butcher and a butcher’s block.
Weeping we go, with guttering candle,
garbed in penitential smock.
Зачем вы отравили воду
И с грязью мой смешали хлеб?
Зачем последнюю свободу
Вы превращаете в вертеп?
За то, что я не издевалась
Над горькой гибелью друзей?
За то, что я верна осталась
Печальной родине моей?
Пусть так. Без палача и плахи
Поэту на земле не быть.
Нам покаянные рубахи,
Нам со свечой идти и выть.
«Between us a double-edged knife / I swore — in my thoughts to put it there... / But sometimes there are — passionate sisters! / But sometimes there is brotherly passion! But this is like a touch of / The prairie in the wind, an abyss on the lips / A blow... Sword, protect us two / ...»
«In a world where everyone / Stoops and [produces] suds / I know —only one / Equal in strength to me. In a world where we / Seek so much, / I know — only one / Equal to me in might. In a world where everything is — / Mold and vines / I know: only one / You — equal in dep...»
«How can you live with another woman — / Simpler? — Pull at the oar! — / Head for the coast line / Soon your memory will have departeded of me, the floating island / (In the sky — not in the sea)! / Souls, Souls! — You'll be sisters, / Not lovers - you! How can you live wit...»
«Dis-stances: versts, miles... / They have dis-jointed us, dis-mantled, / So that we would be quiet, / At the world's farthest ends. Dis-stances: versts, spaces... / We, unstuck, unsoldered / With two arms spread, crucified, / They did not know, how that fuses Inspirations and sinews, /...»