To Petersburg, then Paris too
I find I’m carried by the ocean.
I see them, and I listen, through
Fog’s shroud and timbrel’s loud commotion —
With nightingales now shines the night,
Like melting snow, the stars have vanished
And souls — that can’t escape their plight —
With groaning disappear from sight,
With groaning they’re for ever banished.
Меня уносит океан
То к Петербургу, то к Парижу.
В ушах тимпан, в глазах туман,
Сквозь них я слушаю и вижу —
Сияет соловьями ночь,
И звезды, как снежинки, тают,
И души — им нельзя помочь —
Со стоном улетают прочь,
Со стоном в вечность улетают.
«Why we don't make them distinguished — / Our thoughts — with heart's vibration, / Fill the air with cry and skirmish, / Dreams and lies in combination. Just for that, that, fully useless, / Lost of joy and lost of sadness, / To draw spirals of the losers, / Between even Time and Spa...»
«His eyes are lightless underground lakes, / Abandoned castles of the ancient kings. / Marked with the sign of the eternal shame / Of that, the Other One, he never speaks. / The deepest wound, his mouth, dark and purple, / Made with a blade borne of the deadly poison; / And it is sad and ...»
«Lawful wife / There is still some wine left in the chalice, / And the plate that's served is nests of the swallows. / Since the birth of time, the legal spouse / Is respected by her mandarin-husband. Concubine / There is still some wine left in the chalice, / And the plate is served —...»
«For how many years along this street of mine have I / overheard those footsteps — of my friends leaving. / And the darkness outside my window draws pleasure / in witnessing every sluggish departure. That is your stern character, Solitude, as / you flash an iron compass; bow coldly / now...»