Here’s the rain crashing down,
time has stopped.
The clocks go on helplessly knocking.
Grow, grass, you don’t need time.
Speak, Holy Spirit, you don’t need words.
Вот грянул дождь,
Остановилось время.
Часы беспомощно стучат.
Расти, трава, тебе не надо время.
Дух Божий, говори, тебе не надо слов.
«The sullen rain / cast a glance / askance. / Beyond the still / clear grille — / the iron reasoning of wires strung overhead — / a featherbed. / And on it / rested lightly / the legs of rising stars. / But as / the streetlamps — tsars / in crowns of gas — / began t...»
«With those broad brims, jackets long and spruce, / With notebooks full of verses — all your own, / So long ago to ashes you reduced, / Like blooms of lilac, off its branches blown. There, where you are, to form is nothing bound, / All things are blurred, disjoined, vague and shapeless. /...»
«Among the other children in the flock / She, with her reddish mass of matted hair, / A worn-out smock tucked into pants threadbare, / Resembles suddenly an awkward baby frog — / With lips so thin, and teeth all shaped so wrongly, / With features pinched, and face so plain and homely. To...»
«In this birch grove of quietness / Faraway from disasters and plights, / Where at dawn there oscillates / The unwinking and rosy light, / Where as if a clear avalanche / Leaves pour down from branches on high, / Sing me, oriole, song of a hermit`s chance, / Song about my life. Having ...»