Exists in the autumnal growing
A brief, but an enchanting phase:
The day – as if in crystal glowing,
The dusk – in the resplendent glaze.
Where ears fell to zesty sickle’s rending,
It’s bare around; through a widespread range
Glows only, thinning and unbending,
A web string on an idle trench.
The air’s depleting, quiet – birds have pealed,
Of nascent wintry storms there isn’t a clue,
And pours the warm and the transparent blue
Onto a resting field…
Есть в осени первоначальной
Короткая, но дивная пора —
Весь день стоит как бы хрустальный,
И лучезарны вечера...
Где бодрый серп гулял и падал колос,
Теперь уж пусто всё — простор везде, —
Лишь паутины тонкий волос
Блестит на праздной борозде.
Пустеет воздух, птиц не слышно боле,
Но далеко еще до первых зимних бурь —
И льется чистая и теплая лазурь
На отдыхающее поле...
«We shall meet again in Petersburg, / as though we had buried the sun there. / O. Mandelshtam A quarter century has passed abroad / and hope has become a joke. / The radiant starscape above Nice / is permanently my native sky. The stillness of the blissful South, / the murmur of waves, ...»
«We shall meet again in Petersburg / as if we had buried the sun there. / O. Mandelstam After a quarter-century overseas, / to cling to hope is ludicrous at best. / The radiant sky above adoptive Nice / is native sky to one so disposessed. The quiet of a southern paradise — / the rust...»
«They have given you an incomprehensible name. / You are unconscious; / or — more preciously — your name is / potassium cyanide. / G Adamovich How fussy you once were, / My friends! / You didn't drink vodka, didn't like it. / You preferred Côte de Nuits. Our bread now — potassi...»
«Here among you: your lodgings, your lucre, your smoke, / Your ladies, your Legislatures, / Having not got used to you, having not been blunted by you / Like a certain — / Schumann scudding along with spring on the sly: / From above! and beyond! / Like a nightingale’s suspended tremol...»