Inside a jar with painted flowers
A surly servant carries wine.
In skies above the darkness lowers,
The road is rough and no stars shine.
With straining eyes to guide his going.
He peers into the darkness dim.
Lest the wine flood and overflowing
Drip down and soak his breast for him.
I also bear a jar, and filled it
With sufferings of long ago;
I lulled and cunningly distilled it.
My poison of remembered woe.
By devious ways I travel bearing
My jar that brims with evil, lest
Someone should come with hands uncaring
And spill it down upon my breast.
В амфоре, ярко расцвечённой,
Угрюмый раб несет вино.
Неровен путь неосвещённый,
А в небесах уже темно, —
И напряжёнными глазами
Он зорко смотрит в полутьму,
Чтоб через край вино струями
Не пролилось на грудь ему.
Так я несу моих страданий
Давно наполненный фиал.
В нём лютый яд воспоминаний,
Таясь коварно, задремал.
Иду окольными путями
С сосудом зла, чтоб кто-нибудь
Неосторожными руками
Его не пролил мне на грудь.
«A day of heat. The woods burning. Time / Hanging heavy. From a neighboring plot / A cock was crowing. I went through the gate. / There, on the bench, his back against the fence, / A wandering Serb, dark-skinned and lean, sat dozing. / A heavy silver crucifix hung down / Among the rolling...»
«The snow has drifted. Quietness descends. / Blind walls beside the alley here, and empty ground. / Here comes a man. To take the knife and stab him now! / — Without a sound he’ll lean against the fence, / Then slowly sink onto his knees, and lie face down. / The snowy breath that stirs...»
«I I had lots of fun today: / First the thief who pinched a pullet / From that hag across the way; / Then the horse — they tried to pull it — / Jumped and bolted like a bullet; / And the kite has flown away. But — the thief is no more free, / They have locked him in a cell; / Fo...»
«Twilight was turning to darkness outside. / Under the eaves a window banged wide. A curtain was lifted, a light briefly shone, / A swift shadow fell down the wall and was gone. Happy the man who falls head first to death: / At least for a moment his viewpoint is fresh.»