Bursting himself through bushes, as if from the snare
Of Margarete’s tight hot lips of purple,
While the whites of her eyes stared,
Curled, flicked, grew firm, shone like a nightingale.
It was like the smell from grass. Like mercury
Hanging in the mad rain between bird-cherry trees.
It stupefied the bark. It approached the mouth squarely
With choking. It persisted in the plaited braids.
And, stunned by the hand’s deceit,
Margarete, through gleaming silver eyes,
Seemed like a helmet under rain in a forest
That poured lacking an Amazonian force.
With hands clasped at the back of her head,
She backed off, lightly, transfixed there,
Her helmet hung in the shade, while he emerged
Bursting himself through bushes, as if from a snare.
Разрывая кусты на себе, как силок,
Маргаритиных стиснутых губ лиловей,
Горячей, чем глазной Маргаритин белок,
Бился, щелкал, царил и сиял соловей.
Он как запах от трав исходил. Он как ртуть
Очумелых дождей меж черемух висел.
Он кору одурял. Задыхаясь, ко рту
Подступал. Оставался висеть на косе.
И когда, изумленной рукой проводя
По глазам, Маргарита влеклась к серебру,
То казалось, под каской ветвей и дождя
Повалилась без сил амазонка в бору.
И затылок с рукою в руке у него,
А другую назад заломила, где лег,
Где застрял, где повис ее шлем теневой,
Разрывая кусты на себе, как склок.
«to S. Solovyov Obscure daily shadows run about. / The sound of the bells is clear and high. / The stairs of the church are shining out, / Alive, they're waiting for you to come by. / / As you step in you'll touch a boulder, faintly, / Clad in the gruesome virtue of the past, / ...»
«We were together, I recall... / The night was thrilled, the fiddle singing... / You were mine, my kindly soul, / The loveliest of all in being... / / Through murmur of the brook in peace, / Through the mysterious female giggle / The lips were longing for a kiss, / The heart for s...»
«I see the long forgotten blaze, / And I can clearly hear, in silence, / Another song behind the violins, / The chesty voice that filled the space. / / That's how she answered all my pledges, / My love and passion, first and last, / I recognize it when the blast / Of wind and bliz...»
«You and I are forlorn, I presume. / Let"s relax in this quiet room. / / In this corner, so warm and so bright, / Let us watch the October night. / / As before, there are lights outside. / Dear friend, we are old and retired. / / All is gone: hardship, blizzards and dread. / ...»