Either meadows, pray tell, or clouds, or water
Bewitched by the yellow moon:
A silvery expanse, a silvery distance
Above me, before me, behind me…
Not regretting anything… wishing nothing…
Only that the sorceress’ mask would gleam
And that its tale would unravel
Into the silvery distance, the silvery expanse.
То луга ли, скажи, облака ли, вода ль
Околдована жёлтой луною:
Серебристая гладь, серебристая даль
Надо мной, предо мною, за мною…
Ни о чём не жалеть… Ничего не желать…
Только б маска колдуньи светилась
Да клубком её сказка катилась
В серебристую даль, на сребристую гладь.
«I will return as grass in spring, / I'll try to reach you, germinating, / As buds reach forward to the green / When they are waiting to awaken. To start the blossoming anew / One morning, secretly and shyly, / Already sparkling with the dew, / That dries away if sun is shining. The sun...»
«How many birch trees did you see in this world? / It’s likely — just two, maybe three, / All trimmed with the silver of first winter cold / Or dressed in the green veil of spring Or, maybe, in summer you’d come back at home, / And sunlight would fill all your place, / And through op...»
«A human being, as much as he is grand, / Essentially, is just a thinking plant. / We are related to all trees and grass, / And their kinship can’t belittle us. / We're given from before our birth / The steadfastness of plants, their life force.»
«Although the ages wait in line, / After we’re gone, to blossom, / The world keeps dying every time, / With every single person.»