Sad night creeps
across an earth beset
neither by thought nor threat
but by joyless, sluggish sleep.
Lightning brightens the scowls,
winking intermittently
like deaf-mute ghouls
debating heatedly.
A sign has been agreed:
the sky's alight. A sudden surge
snaps from the murk with sudden speed
and fields and distant woods emerge.
Then again they're under shrouds.
You sense it all go darkly still up there,
and if in camera some high affair
they'd ratified above the clouds.
Ночное небо так угрюмо,
Заволокло со всех сторон.
То не угроза и не дума,
То вялый, безотрадный сон.
Одни зарницы огневые,
Воспламеняясь чередой,
Как демоны глухонемые,
Ведут беседу меж собой.
Как по условленному знаку,
Вдруг неба вспыхнет полоса,
И быстро выступят из мраку
Поля и дальние леса.
И вот опять все потемнело,
Все стихло в чуткой темноте —
Как бы таинственное дело
Решалось там — на высоте.
«Hard and marvelous — loyalty till the coffin! / Tsar-like luxury in squares' time! / Firm are the souls and ribs are firm likewise / Where are you, people of days gone by? With ash equating altar and the throne, / Like a red-haired Tatar the freedom prowls. / Over the ashtrays at the t...»
«O, pitiful exertions of usurpers! / Like sleep, like snow, like death, to all — a shrine. / A ban on Kremlin! There's no ban on wings, and / Therefore — there is no ban upon Kremlin.»
«Either soldiers drove into the ground a stake, / Either they covered a face with a red rag, / Either deaf and dumb from punches is the Divine, / Either on Easter they were banned from Kremlin — Old revelers should sit at the linen, / Birds should crawl, fish should sing, women — reason...»
«Like blood and sweat it is simple: / To people — tsar, to tsar — people. Like mystery of two it is clear: / The third is the spirit, the two are near. From the sky tsar is placed on the throne: / That is clear like dream and snow. To the throne tsar will come again yet: / It is holy ...»