“Lilac ice cream! Lilac ice cream!
Half a portion a dime! One bit for a scoop!
Have some, sir! Buy one, madam,
No need to argue,
It’s as cheap as you need. Something just made for you,
The great cuisine of the streets.
“I’ve got no custard ices, the pistachio’s all gone,
Good people, come on! Why ask for caramel?
It’s time to popularize, acquire the common people’s tastes!
Out with gourmet refinements, sing gluttony’s praise.
“Lilac is license’s symbol. As its tender pink crown
Lists to one side,
Ice over, you waterfall heart, in a fragrant sweet bloom...
Ice cream from lilac! Lilac ice cream.
Hey there, the kid with that honey drink there,
You’ll love it, young friend, just you try.”
— Мороженое из сирени! Мороженое из сирени!
Полпорции десять копеек, четыре копейки буше.
Сударыни, судари, надо ль? — не дорого — можно без прений…
Поешь деликатного, площадь: придется товар по душе!
Я сливочного не имею, фисташковое все распродал…
Ах, граждане, да неужели вы требуете крэм-брюле?
Пора популярить изыски, утончиться вкусам народа,
На улицу специи кухонь, огимнив эксцесс в вирелэ!
Сирень — сладострастья эмблема. В лилово-изнеженном крене
Зальдись, водопадное сердце, в душистый и сладкий пушок…
Мороженое из сирени, мороженое из сирени!
Эй, мальчик со сбитнем, попробуй! Ей-богу, похвалишь, дружок!
«Freedom is a wondrous marvel / Sweet to crave in candlelight. / “Stay with me before you travel,” / Cried Devotion in the night, “You are crowned by me alone. / Hold your freedom in regard / As a law that’s carved in stone; / Heed it with a loving heart…” “As a law that...»
«Your vague image, frail and born in ache, / In the fog I could not sense by touch. / “God!” my tongue let out, though by mistake, / For I did not mean to say that much. So God’s name, much like a wide-winged bird, / From my chest took on its feathered flight. / Up ahead of it, dense...»
«My quiet dream, by every minute granted – / A ghostly wood where magic spell is cast; / Like silky curtains, airy and enchanted, / Some iffy rustle moves there, flying fast; In cloudy arguments and crazy meetings, / At the crossroads of eyes astonished wide, / A noise unclear, invisib...»
«A weightless breath has not disturbed the frosty air. / Sad freedom plaguing me, I see me rise up there / With cold soft hymns. I want me lost, evaporated / Forever; but to walk I happen to be fated, Along the snowy street — while I can hear dogs bark, / And on this evening hour the west ...»