The dull sounds of gas flares
Above the dead brightness of heads,
The tedium’s black contagion
From deserted tables,
And there, among the sallow-faced,
Harbouring the anguish of the habit,
Trying to solve on the discoloured pages
The odious puzzle of being.
Тупые звуки вспышек газа
Над мёртвой яркостью голов,
И скуки чёрная зараза
От покидаемых столов,
И там, среди зеленолицых,
Тоску привычки затая,
Решать на выцветших страницах
Постылый ребус бытия.
«I will not deceive myself, admitting / I have worries in my heart, so dreary. / Why am I reputed as a cheating / Crook and trouble-maker, really? / / I am not a villain nor a thief in hiding, / And I never shot imprisoned convicts. / I am just a thoughtless idler, smiling / Friendl...»
«They carouse, fight and sob again ‘ere / To harmonika’s yellowish rues. / They bad-mouth again their failures, / Reminiscing the Muscovy Russ. I myself, engrossed head over ears, / Am diluting my eyes with hard drinks / So as never to notice the lethal, / And to dream about differe...»
«Sing, old man, to the bloody guitar, and / Let your fingers show natural bent. / I would choke in this drunken enchantment / You"re my last and my only friend. / / Don"t you look at her wrist and the blooming / Silky shawl hanging down her head. / I was looking for joy in this woman ...»
«Your harnessed horse drank water from your palms. / Reflections of birches broke in the pond. I looked out the window at your blue headdress. / The wind ruffled your black snakelike curls. I wanted, in the shimmering foamy streams, / To tear a sharp kiss from your scarlet lips. But with a s...»