“Your palms are fiery,
The Easter bells ring loud,
You’re tempted, like St. Anthony,
By visions all around.”
“How was such day’s affair
Mixed with the holy days,
Like thick and tangled hair
Of Magdalenes half-crazed.”
“Thus only children love,
Just once, and then it dies.”
“No light is strong enough —
To match those tranquil eyes."
“This is the devil’s bluff,
Such longing — an offense.”
“No white is white enough —
To match that of her hands.”
«Горят твои ладони,
В ушах пасхальный звон,
Ты как святой Антоний,
Виденьем искушен».
«Зачем во дни святые
Ворвался день один,
Как волосы густые
Безумных Магдалин».
«Так любят только дети,
И то лишь первый раз».
«Сильней всего на свете
Лучи спокойных глаз».
«То дьявольские сети,
Нечистая тоска».
«Белей всего на свете
Была ее рука».
«She has not taken her first sigh — / She is the word and music both — / And thus of all that lives and grows / A timeless and unbroken tie. Placidly breathe the breasts of sea / The day is bright, as if gone mad, / The sea foam's pallid lilacs stand / In vase of lapis lazuli. O, wo...»
«She has yet to be born: / she is music and word, / and she eternally bonds / all life in this world. / / The sea breathes gently; / the day glitters wildly. / A bowl of dazed azure / sways pale foam-lilac. / / May I too reach back / to that ancient silence, / like a note of...»
«— She’s at the riverbed, in algae, covered / With weeds... She went to sleep there, / But there’s no dream there, as it happens. / — But I loved her, / Loved more than forty thousand brothers / Ever could have loved! / — Hamlet...»
«— She's — She's in the riverbed, in algae / And weeds...She went to them / To sleep, — but there's no sleep there, either! / — But she's the one I loved / Like forty thousand brothers / Couldn't love! / — Hamlet! / She's in the riverbed, ...»