There 's evil in good and vice versa,
But people are neither that nor this.
They all are right, and even more so,
Not worth a curse, not worth a bliss.
There is no Sweden or Japan,
But only people are around
Who under pale and crippled Sun
Are crawling on the shaky ground.
И в зле добро, и в добром злоба,
Но нет ни добрых, нет ни злых,
И правы все, и правы оба, —
И правоту поет мой стих.
И нет ни шведа, ни японца.
Есть всюду только человек,
Который под недужьем солнца
Живёт свой жалкий полувек.
«The hot sultry summer / Comes dazzling by degrees. / The grass, scorched by the sun, / Is dressed in a moist vapor. The burdock, yellowed by heat, / Unfolds its pink armour / And stands, choking with flies, / Beneath the tall windows of a hut. In the bloom of nature / There's a brief...»
«With face upturned to the sky, / Head uncovered, / He lingers by the gates, / This God-accursed old guy. / All day he sings, / And his sad, angry refrain, / Striking at the heart, / Startles pedestrians again. Around the old man / Younger generations stir. / Blossoming in the gar...»
«The thaw after a snowstorm, / A blizzard has just subsided, / Now snowdrifts have settled, / And the snow is turning grey. / / A sliver of moon shines / Through tattered clouds. / The pine-trees' boughs / Are heavy with wet snow. Icicles melt and flow down, / Piercing the snowdri...»
«When day's light fades far away / And in darkness descends on huts, / The whole sky glitters overhead, / A colossal atom in motion sways. And often by this dream I'm in torment, / That in another corner of the universe, / The same garden, darkness and stars / Exist, their beauty forever...»