Bliss is in the sparkles red,
Inspirations, flying and bright,
In our dreams, subtle and light,
In your eyes, tired and sad.
Woe 's no faith, but reason,
Not to trust, but just to know,
Prophets, subject to derision,
And the search of bliss is a woe.
Счастье жизни — в искрах алых;
В просветленьях мимолетных,
В грёзах ярких, но бесплотных
И в твоих очах усталых.
Горе — в вечности пороков,
В постоянном с ними споре,
В осмеянии пророков
И в исканьях счастья — горе.
«A tree grows, reminiscent / Of a natural wooden column. / It sprouts members / Dressed in round leaves. / A congregation of such trees / Makes up a wood, a forest, a grove. / But the definition of a forest is imprecise / When we point out just its formal structure. A cow's fat body, ...»
«In a land far remote, / Near the end of the earth, / Foreman lay by a road, / For he couldn't move forth. / His heart must have been strained / Or forgotten, his flask, / But no strength there remained / To deliver the task. / What the peasants there deemed, / Drove them into disma...»
«Zodiac's dimming every feature / Over pasture's endless ward. / Sleeping is the Canine creature, / Dozing is the Sparrow bird. / Healthy-bottomed mermaids scatter, / Float directly heaven bound. / Hands like branches, only fatter, / Breasts like turnips strong and round. / A witch on...»
«Three springs in life's unbroken joyless desert / Mysteriously issue from the sands: / The spring of youth, uneven and rebellious, / Bears swift its sparkling stream through sunny lands; / Life's exiles drink the wave of inspiration / That swells the limpid fount of Castaly; / But 'tis t...»