Our street is covered in snow; over the
Snow runs the lilac dusk. Passing by, it
Merely glanced in the window and I knew I
Had loved it for a long time. I implored
The lilac dusk: “Visit me a while, stay
With me in my nook, do not dispel my
Old, old grief, share your own with me,
My longed-for one!” But only from afar
I heard its reply: “If you love me, then
Seek out my tracks yourself; my flight
Ended, I will stay a brief hour where the
Thin ice over the whirlpool shows blue
And no one has seen us by the stove...
Only those are mine who are free and daring!”
Наша улица снегами залегла,
По снегам бежит сиреневая мгла.
Мимоходом только глянула в окно,
И я понял, что люблю её давно.
Я молил её, сиреневую мглу:
«Погости-побудь со мной в моём углу,
Не мою тоску ты давнюю развей,
Поделись со мной, желанная, своей!»
Но лишь издали услышал я в ответ:
«Если любишь, так и сам отыщешь след.
Где над омутом синеет тонкий лёд,
Там часочек погощу я, кончив лёт,
А у печки-то никто нас не видал…
Только те мои, кто волен да удал».
«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...»