If from the garden, this stupid maple
Spreading his branches would fly away!
Oh, if he could behave this way,
Oh, if he only would be able!
But he 's just thickening every week,
And all is leaving, but not leaving.
What is the point to be so weak
And stay whole year like a stick?!
О, если б клён, в саду растущий,
Расправив ветви, улетел!..
О, если бы летать хотел
Безмозглый клён, в саду растущий!..
Он с каждым днём всё гуще-гуще,
И вот уж сплошь он полиствел.
Что толку! — лучше бы: растущий,
Взмахнув ветвями, улетел!
«Past one o’clock. You’re probably in bed / The Milky Way streams like the silver Oka / I won’t send wild telegrams. I don’t intend / to trouble you and vex you any longer / and now, as people say, our case is closed / the boat of love could not endure the grind / We’re even now...»
«In the realm of Threeteenseventy, / Commonwealth of Thriceleventy, / Lived the famous Tsar Dadon. / Fierce he was from boyhood on, / And when scarcely more than twenty / Wrought his neighbors wrongs aplenty. / Aging now, he changed in mind, / Would give up the warlike grind / For a l...»
«Sun is but one, yet it marches through all towns undone. / Sun is all mine. I shall give it away to no one, / / For a day, for a ray, for a glance. — To no one. Nevermore! / Let cities perish in dark endless night, I implore! / / I'll take the sun in my palms! I won't let it go round...»
«Sun — is one, but treads all over the cities, / Sun — is mine. I shan't give it to anybody. Not for an hour, for ray, nor for glance. — Nobody, never! / Then let cities vanish in the night unchangeable. I'll take it in hands! — To avoid its circling in round! / Besides of burning ...»