Over the river the hazes that flow
'Neath the moon in the lonesome night,
They beset me with hate, and they bring me delight
For the stillness thereof and the woe.
Forgotten the beauty of day,
And thro' mist I stealthily pace,
A track scarce beheld, in my travail I trace
And I carry my lonely despair on my way.
Этот зыбкий туман над рекой
В одинокую ночь, при луне, —
Ненавистен он мне, и желанен он мне
Тишиною своей и тоской.
Я забыл про дневную красу,
И во мглу я тихонько вхожу,
Еле видимый след напряжённо слежу,
И печали мои одиноко несу.
«She raised herself on her fingers / and made me a gift of her lips. / I kissed her a little tiredly / in the moist autumn silence. Tears were dropping soundlessly / in the moist autumn silence. / The dreary day expired, we weary / like everything that isn't in a dream.»
«Amid the worlds, in twinkling of the stars / There’s the One, whose name I always utter… / ‘Tis not because I love Her with my heart, / But rather because languish I with others. And if my doubt is hard in all its might, / ‘Tis She alone, whom always I inquire, / ‘Tis not becaus...»
«(To my friend, S. K. Bulich) Select a dark night and in a field, unpeopled, naked, / dip into gray twilight.... May the air, having fanned, becalm, / May the stars, winking, in the cold sky slumber on.... / Tell the heart not to count its thumps.... / Stop in mid-step and listen! You're no...»
«Sad and made of copper / The symbol we are wed, / Even our comedies / End a little sadly…. / Our joyful neighbors / Wear their infernal / Hirsute fur coats…. / And that only… banal / Are our mangy bears / With prey trembling / In blood-covered lips.»