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.
«The moon is the tongue / In the bell of the sky. / The homeland's my mother, / А Bolshevik am I. Hail the universal / Brotherhood of man! / That's why with my verse / For your death I give thanks. Strong, tough and healthy, / To hasten your doom / The blue bell of heaven / I str...»
«Sleep peacefully, dear brothers. / In answer to her call / Staunch champions of our country / March past the Kremlin walls. New thoughts the world is bearing. / Red lightning tints the sky... / Sleep peacefully, dear brothers, / Where in your tombs you lie. Like а gold seal, to guard ...»
«The twirling golden birch-leaves / Upon the pink pond lie / Like а flock of butterflies, hurtling / To а distant star to die. This evening fascinates me / The yellowing vale delights. / The frolicsome breeze is raising / The birch skirts shoulder-high. The vale's cool, cool my heart ...»
«With а wet broom а shower sweeps up / The droppings willows strew. / Spit, wind, your mouthfuls of leaves out — / I'm а hooligan, like you. I love to observe blue coppices, / Like lumbering oxen, go / Dirtying tree-trunks halfway up / With bellies sci-aping low. There it is, my he...»