To Roman Gul
Even the graves are not tended in Russia,
Once they may have been, but I have forgotten.
There is no Petersburg, no Moscow, no Kiev,
Once there may have been, alas I have forgotten.
Neither seas, rivers do I know, nor frontiers.
But I know the Russian man's still there.
He has a Russian heart, he has a Russian head.
I'll understand him from the very first word said,
When I meet him face to face ... Then I shall begin
To see his country too, dimly through the mist.
Роману Гулю
Нет в России даже дорогих могил,
Может быть и были — только я забыл.
Нету Петербурга, Киева, Москвы —
Может быть и были, да забыл, увы.
Ни границ не знаю, ни морей, ни рек,
Знаю - там остался русский человек.
Русский он по сердцу, русский по уму,
Если я с ним встречусь, я его пойму.
Сразу, с полуслова... И тогда начну
Различать в тумане и его страну.
«In the white night — crimson crescent's / Coming out in the blue. / Roams in ghostly-splendid essence, / Looks in Neva stream askew. / / Secret thoughts' fulfillment beckons, / I can see it in my sleep. / Does Good hide in you, I reckon, / Crimson crescent, quiet weep?.. / https...»
«I loved you, once: and love, it could well be, / Within my soul lies unextinguished yet. / But let the thought no longer trouble you. / I would not bring you anguish or regret. / I loved you with no words and to no end / Now timorous, now jealous, pain by pain. / I loved you though so te...»
«I still recall a wonder vision. / The moment you before me shone, / A fleeting Genius apparition, / A perfect beauty paragon. Through hopeless sorrow that oppressed me, / Through life's alarm and senseless schemes / That caring voice and soul caressed me, / And that dear face would fill...»
«When din of day for mortals softly ends / And down on the mute city squares / The half-transparent shade of night descends / With slumber, balm of daylong cares, / Then, in the still for me the hours bring / Exhausting sleepless pains anew. / Searing...»