The world is splattered by sunlight,
Sparkling with festive luster.
Leaving
the morning darkness
behind,
People stand blinded,
And blink, adjusting.
Any move now is an effort —
don’t try!
The city has halted,
by brightness smitten
At the front doors, half-awake
it lies
Squinting at light
like a coddled kitten.
Солнцем обрызган целый мир,
Празднично блещет улица.
После
утренней тьмы
квартир
Люди стоят
и щурятся.
Сдвинься, попробуй, —
не хватит сил,
И у подъездов,
спросонок,
Город большой на мгновенье
застыл,
Зажмурившись,
как котенок.
«In a phone-booth, eyes in tears, / Stands a young girl, all distraught, / Hides her face, with lipstick smeared, / Deep into her flimsy coat. Skinny fingers cup her face. / Fingers — sting. And earrings — blaze. All alone she must retreat / Back on down the frozen street. It’s th...»
«There was painter once, / Owned a small home and his art. / But there’s an actress he loved, / Flowers were dear to her heart. So he sold his house on a whim – / His art and his roof, undeterred — / And spent all the money to buy / A whole sea of flowers for her. A million, milli...»
«In Rome at the New Year it is the custom to throw old things into the street. Rome rattles and shakes / like a runaway breakdown truck. / All over Rome and round about / the New Year’s coming in! Like Mills bombs, bottles / dropped from windowsills. / crash all over the place, / and ...»
«Motor-scooter roaring / past the sanatorium! Behind the handlebars / like Rublyov angels: loving riders. As in the fresco of the Annunciation / with its strident white tone / see their women scattering a shine / behind them, like wings on their spine! The splaying of their dress! / Tu...»