O you the ancient rhymes and rhythms,
Seized on by many poets,
The banal, cheap, and puny ones,
Cliches overcooked and boiled!
You sound with the guitar strings,
With rhythms and rhyme impoverished,
Than all new things more beautiful
To my simplistic soul!
You were under Derzhavin,
You were under Nekrasov
You were under Nikitin,
And under Tolstoy too!
Oh you — just like an avalanche!
And though you were discarded,
And though new ones are written —
You burst into my book!
I greet you, my dear loyal ones,
The fully tried and tested ones,
The musical and flowerful
And most beloved by me!
Exemplary companions
You dear ones, you tender ones,
The happy and the sorrowful
The nightingale-like rhythms!
О вы, размеры старые,
Захватанные многими,
Банальные, дешёвые,
Готовые клише!
Звучащие гитарою,
И с рифмами убогими —
Прекраснее, чем новые,
Простой моей душе!
Вы были при Державине,
Вы были при Некрасове,
Вы были при Никитине,
Вы были при Толстом!
О вы — подобны ла́вине!
И как вас не выбрасывай,
Что новое не вытяни, —
Вы проситесь в мой том.
Приветствую вас, верные
Испытанно-надёжные,
Округло-музыкальные,
Любимые мои!
О вы — друзья примерные,
Вы, милые, вы, нежные
Весёлые, печальные,
Размеры — соловьи!
«I dreamed this dream and I still dream of it / and I will dream of it sometime again. / Everything repeats itself and everything will be reincarnated, / and my dreams will be your dreams. There, to one side of us, to one side of the world / wave after wave breaks on the shore: / there's a...»
«I know the truth — give up all other truths! / No need for people anywhere on earth to struggle. / Look — it is evening, look, it is nearly night: / what do you speak of, poets, lovers, generals? The wind is level now, the earth is wet with dew, / the storm of stars in the sky will turn...»
«I The graveyard, wasteland, then the shore, / Where the river shines cool and blue. / You told me: “Get thee to a nunnery or / Find a fool to marry you…” / That’s the sort of thing princes say, I know, / But I’ll never forget this one, – / Like an ermine mantle let your word...»
«It’s dark, despite the moon above. / For many, life may turn out better, — / Inside my soul, the spring of love / Will not replace the stormy weather. / The night’s spread out in the street, / And to my spirit’s muted stare, / That’s soaked in poison, hot and sweet, / It answ...»