Any beginning is the beginning of the end.
That’s why we begin with an egg,
but end up with a smashed shell,
and this is the way we crown any beginning.
But we’ve been taught, but we’ve been drilled
not to think about the bitter outcome in the beginning,
not to think, not to know, not to try and find out,
but — once we’ve decided to begin — to make a beginning.
Let’s begin. Let’s play with cruel fate,
let’s start the conflict, let’s plunge into the fray.
Любое начало — начало конца.
Поэтому мы начинаем с яйца,
кончаем же битою скорлупою
и с этим венчаем начало любое.
Но нас обучили, но нас накачали
не думать о горьком исходе вначале,
не думать, не знать, не стараться узнать,
а — раз мы решили начать — начинать.
Начнем. Поиграем жестокой судьбой,
затеем сражение, ввяжемся в бой.
«Some wait for joy, some seek ovations, / Some look for honours in the field, / Some yearn for mad gratification, / Some for reply to prayers appealed. While I — all visions false, mistaken, / Like bygone dreams fever-distressed, / I’ll trade now for the bliss of waking, / Oh dear fr...»
«I love you as the sea loves the sunrise, / As Narcissus loves the glimmer and the coldness of dreamy waters. / I love you as the stars love the crescent moon, / As the poem loves its creator inspired by fancy. / I love you like the flame that attracts the moth to its Death, from exhaustive l...»
«As in the day of first creation, / The azure skies are calm again, / As though the world knew not privation, / As though the heart knew naught of pain; / For love and fame my craving passes; / 'Mid silence of the fields at morn / I breathe, as breathe these very grasses... / O'er days ...»
«Quoth nature unto me in tones of stately scorning: / "Begone, and break not in upon my harmony! / I weary of thy tears; mar not with anguished mourning / The calm wherewith my azure nights encompass me. "All have I given thee, — life, youth and freedom given, / But thou in senseless feud...»