In my comfortable carriage, buoyed by its ellipsychic bearings,
I love to visit at golden midday the lady's club for tea time,
Where women so deliciously gossip about social trash and quarrels,
Where the foolish rightfully are unfoolish, the wise always stupid.
Oh all you fashionable subjects, from you my sorrow will unfurl.
Trembling lips with irony quiver like jelly made of wild strawberries.
"The natives look just like pineapples and pineapples resemble natives."
The Creole woman's quips are witty, recalling her exotic landscapes.
The mayor's wife begins yawning, leaning over the silent piano,
Looks out the window where fermenting July sensuously stumbles.
Around us fan the golden cobwebs, of spleen's lazy tribes a symbol.
Having thus compared myself, isn't this why I love the Lady's Club?
Я в комфортабельной карете, на эллипсических рессорах,
Люблю заехать в златополдень на чашку чая в женоклуб,
Где вкусно сплетничают дамы о светских дрязгах и о ссорах,
Где глупый вправе слыть не глупым, но умный непременно глуп...
О, фешенебельные темы! от вас тоска моя развеется!
Трепещут губы иронично, как земляничное желе...
«Индейцы — точно ананасы, и ананасы — как индейцы...»
Острит креолка, вспоминая о экзотической земле.
Градоначальница зевает, облокотясь на пианино,
И смотрит в окна, где истомно бредет хмелеющий Июль.
Вкруг золотеет паутина, как символ ленных пленов сплина,
И я, сравнив себя со всеми, люблю клуб дам не потому ль?..
«Tender caresses of kind little sisters / Are ready for you. / With the birds' songs, O the charmed prince, / We're waiting for you. / Branch drunk with sun, you grew, visage of heaven / Before my eyes. / Like a girl tender, like a child quiet, / All — surprise. / They'll often say...»
«Evening dimmed, like ourselves charmed / With this first warmth of the spring. / Stirring alive, Arbat was alarmed; / With sympathetic tenderness, the kind / Gale touched us with a tired wing. / In our souls, raised on a fairy tale, / Sorrow quietly cried for past things. He came — s...»
«Near is the meek image of the dark chapel / Where the organ does weep! / Alien to me is earthly joy. / I'm Angelique. Quiet singing in unison sounds, / Unclear are the windows, it seems, / Elegant vaults have taken control / Of my life like dreams. My sight in childhood slipped away th...»
«Like in a mirror, there's shade in the heart / I'm bored alone — and with men... / Slowly drags the light of the day / From four till seven! / Everybody is cruel in the dusk, / Don't go to people — they'll lie. / Fingers have wound into a knot / The kerchief. I want to cry. / On...»