Do you remember dryness in a throat,
When, clanking with a naked power of evil,
Towards, with shout, they were going,
And autumn was a step of test of being?
But rightness was a fence of such a shield,
That no any armour could reach well.
The destiny of Leningrad was yield —
It was the wall in eyes of all defenders.
The moment has come — a fair goal:
The ring of siege was opened at last.
The whole world is crowding around,
And looks in his face with a strong delight.
How marvellous he is! Immortal lot!
The chain of legends now has its link!
All that is possible in skies and earth
Was carried out and withstood by him.
Вы помните ещё ту сухость в горле,
Когда, бряцая голой силой зла,
Навстречу нам горланили и пёрли
И осень шагом испытаний шла?
Но правота была такой оградой,
Которой уступал любой доспех.
Всё воплотила участь Ленинграда.
Стеной стоял он на глазах у всех.
И вот пришло заветное мгновенье:
Он разорвал осадное кольцо.
И целый мир, столпившись в отдаленьи,
В восторге смотрит на его лицо.
Как он велик! Какой безсмертный жребий!
Как входит в цепь легенд его звено!
Всё, что возможно на земле и небе,
Им вынесено и совершено.
«Past a little rain see the brass get greener, / See the bluer stream, see the taller sky. / In the garden square, flutes are playing keener; / The conductor’s soul wants to soar up high. Ah, those orchestras, what a reminiscence / From the peaceful years, not the times of war! / That ol...»
«Fall of early twilight; flutes are playing, restive; evening ride proceeding. / On the finest horse, in a caftan blue and festive, emperor is leading. / Horse is color snow-white, hair is color raven, scarlet ammunition. / Eyes are color amber; wings are spread in mission — battle premoni...»
«Darkness is hovering everywhere, / Still as the depths of the sea... / Woman, Your Majesty, I won’t dare — / You, at your will, came to me?? Why, I have dim electricity, / Taps are all rusty and rough, / Woman, Your Majesty, can it be — / You were courageous enough? Oh, you arriv...»
«To worship someone is my aspiration. / Imagine, just a simple ant of mine / Felt suddenly like kneeling in prostration, / Believing in his touch with the divine. The ant then was bereft of peace and calmness, / So everyday was everything he saw / That lastly, in his image, in his likeness...»