No more Europe, no more America.
The end of Tsarskoye, of Moscow, too.
A fit of nuclear hysteria –
life atomized into a radiant blue.
Transparent, all-forgiving haze will stretch
over the seas. And he who could have done
something yet chose not to, will be left
in the expanse of pre-eternity, alone.
Не станет ни Европы, ни Америки,
Ни Царскосельских парков, ни Москвы —
Припадок атомической истерики
Всё распылит в сияньи синевы.
Потом над морем ласково протянется
Прозрачный, всепрощающий дымок…
И Тот, кто мог помочь и не помог,
В предвечном одиночестве останется.
«The street, the night, the lamp and snow, / The meaningless and dingy light. / It was the same ten years ago. / There's no way out, the same dark night. You'll die and start again, and still, / In thirty years, you'll look at it, / And see the canal, water still,...»
«About glory, valor, feats, and fame / I was forgetting in this sorrow place, / Until in front of me, in a'simple frame, / Stood on the table your enchanting face. But it has come, the day of loss and danger. / The sacred ring in the dark night I threw, / Your destiny was given to a stran...»
«I'm Hamlet. It makes curdle my blood, / When treachury is spinning webs, / And 'tis still living in my heart, / The first love, and the last, perhaps. You, my Ofelia, gleamed and / Has vanished in the freezing world, / And I, the prince, in th' fatherland, / Am dying stabbed b...»
«The golden grove is no longer laughing / And all birch trees stay silent, gray, and sad, / And flying by, the cranes care of nothing; / They go far and they do not regret. Regret? For whom? We all are pilgrims here: / Come, stay some time, and then forever leave. / Our names, o...»