Boris Pasternak
in frenchBoris Pasternak (français)
- Le houblon, Henri Abril
«I'm peering at you, oh, numbers, / And you emerge clothed in animals, in their skins, / Leaning calmly on uprooted oaks. / You bestow unity between the snake-like movement / Of the universe's spine and the dance of a rocker. / You reveal centuries as teeth of a rapid laugh. / My eyes hav...»
«Neither fragile Japanese shadows / Nor mellifluous Indian daughters / Sound as sorrowful / As the last supper orations. / On the verge of death all that has happened / Repeats itself quickly but differently. / And that is the basis / For the dance of death and its achievement.»
«Oh Asia! You are my torment. / I fancy thunderclouds like maiden's brows, / And lengthy gatherings at night / Like the bloom of tender shoulders. / Where is the prophet of a new day? / Oh, If only Asia would cover my knees / With the hair of blue rivers, / And whisper her cryptic pl...»
«While Achmatova's tears and songs / Were raining over Tsarskoe Selo, / I, unwinding the enchantress' ball of thread, / Dragged myself through the wilderness / Where impossibility was dying, / A tired actor / Striding forward. / Meanwhile the curly head / Of the subterranean bull wa...»