The smokey blotches of the neighbours’ windows,
and windswept roses bending, drawing breath —
if I could think that life is but a dream,
that we cannot help waking after death.
To wait in heaven — heaven is so blue —
to wait in that cool bliss without a care.
And then, never to part with you.
With you for ever. Do you see? For ever...
Дымные пятна соседних окон,
Розы под ветром вздыхают и гнутся.
Если б поверить, что жизнь — это сон,
Что после смерти нельзя не проснуться.
Будет в раю — рай совсем голубой —
Ждать так прохладно, блаженно-безпечно.
И никогда не расстаться с тобой!
Вечно с тобой. Понимаешь ли? Вечно...
«I shall return today right there, / Where I had been at spring. / I’m neither sorry, nor unfair — / I only darkness bring. / It’s very deep, it’s like velvet, / It’s dearest to us / Like a dry leaf from a tree fled, / Like a wind’s whistle, that’s lone spread / Over the...»
«They scrape — the hanging lanterns’ balls, / Which had been lighted so early. / The snow flakes, in their by-falls, / Shine brighter and more festive-fairly. And, speeding forth their even race, / As if well-feeling their chase own, / The horses run through falling flakes / Under th...»
«He, who was called by men in days of yore, / A king — in mock, in truthfulness — a god, / Who was once killed — whose tools of suffer sore / By my hot breast is permanently wormed… They tested Death — the witnesses of Jesus, / Severe solders, and she-gossips old, / The Rome p...»
«How it is simple to leave life for ever, / Without thoughts and pains to end to blaze, / But for the Russian poets there was never / Given the right for such a blessed death. / Most likely, a lead would open Heavens / For the winged soul’s non-awaited flight, / Or a brute awe, with paw...»