Fears, jeers, tears
And all that caper
Aren't worth the ink
Aren't worth the paper.
Blots and smears
Aren’t worth the ink
Nor what gives off
A moral stink.
Go and write odes
Where «liberty»
Lamely rhymes
With «brotherly».
Go and write ballads
Where words like «dinner»
Rhyme perfectly
With words like «winner».
Your talents
I will always heed
And your ballads
Will always read.
Грехи и огрехи,
Враги и овраги
Не стоят чернила,
Не стоят бумаги,
Не стоит чернила
Все то, что чернило,
Все то, что моральный
Ущерб причинило.
Пишите-ка оды,
Где слово «народы»
Неточно рифмуют
Со словом «свободы».
Пишите баллады,
Где слово «победы»
Прекрасно рифмуют
Со словом «обеды».
Я ваши таланты
Весьма почитаю
И ваши баллады
Всегда прочитаю.
«Somewhere it's light and happy, there's elation, / Transparent, warm and simple life there is. / A man across the fence has conversation / With girl before the evening, and the bees / Hear only the tenderest of conversation. And we are living pompously and hard / And follow bitter rituals...»
«I remember you only rarely / And your fate I do not review / But the mark won't be stripped from my soul / Of the meaningless meeting with you. Your red house I avoid on purpose, / Your red house murky river beside, / But I know, that I am disturbing / Gravely your heart-pierced respite...»
«How spacious are these squares, / How resonant bridges and stark! / Heavy, peaceful, and starless / Is the covering of the dark. And we walk on the fresh snow / As if we were mortal people. / That we are together this hour / Unseparable — is it not a miracle? The knees go unwitting...»
«"My dear, if we could only / Reach all the way to the seas" / "Be quiet" and descended the stairs / Losing breath and looking for keys. Past the buildings, where sometime / We danced and had fun and drank wine / Past the white columns of Senate / Where it's dark, dark again. "What are ...»