How nice to walk the quay at night! No fuss.
We stroll and we are silent, both of us.
We see the Seine, a tree, and there’s the rising stone
Of a cathedral, and clouds...
We’ll postpone
Our talking till tomorrow, later, aye.
Till day after tomorrow,
till we die.
По набережной ночью мы идем.
Как хорошо — идем, молчим вдвоем.
И видим Сену, дерево, собор
И облака…
А этот разговор
На завтра мы отложим, на потом,
На после-завтра…
На когда умрем.
«I Down the alley, the horses are led, / Their long wavy manes - all combed out, / A place full of riddles, how I lament, / Having fallen in love with this town. It’s strange to recall: the soul pined for joy, / Only gasping for breath to pull through, / And now I’ve become a playthin...»
«As with a straw, you drink the soul from me. / I know, its taste is bitter, strong and heady. / I won’t disturb this torment with a plea. / I’ve been at peace for many weeks already. Say when you’re done. It isn’t sad at all, / At last, my soul has vanished from this earth. / I’...»
«Strange boy, I’ve gone mad at last, / Wednesday, around three! / On my ring finger, a wasp / Stung me angrily. I accidentally squeezed my grip, / And it died, I think, / But sharper than a spindle’s tip / Was its poisoned sting. Strange one, is it you I’ll mourn, / And will you...»
«My legs are useless at the present, / May they become a fish’s tail! / I’m swimming, and the chill is pleasant, / The distant bridge is glowing pale. I’ll give my passive soul away, / Let it be turned to smoke anew, / And light, above the gloomy quay, / It’ll change into a tende...»