How agleam, how garnished the spring!
Turn your eyes in the old way upon me:
Say, wherefore this sorrowing?
Why lavish this tenderness on me?
You are mute, as a blossom so frail,
Say naught! — No confession is needed:
The flight of your love I have heeded, —
Lone again is my trail!
Как светла, как нарядна весна!
Погляди мне в глаза, как бывало,
И скажи: отчего ты грустна?
Отчего ты так ласкова стала?
Но молчишь ты, слаба, как цветок…
О, молчи! Мне не надо признанья:
Я узнал эту ласку прощанья, —
Я опять одинок!
«Dirt flies / From under the hooves. / Shawl like a shield / Over the face. / Newlyweds, have fun / Without the young! / Eh, carry them out, / Disheveled stallion! We didn't have freedom / Under mother and dad, / The whole field for us / Is marital bed! Full without bread and wi...»
«The gypsy passion of parting! / You meet it — and you take flight! / I dropped the arms and the forehead / And think staring into the night: No one, digging in our letters, / Understood in all depth / How we're sacrilegious — that is / How we in each other have faith...»
«Marvelous night picture, / It's so dear to me: / White plain, wintry mixture, / Full moon carefree, / / Light of soaring heaven, / Shiny snow display, / And a lonely racing / Of the distant sleigh.»
«As a wavy cloud, / Dust soars from wind gust; / Horsed man or dismounted — / Can't see in the dust! / / I see: someone's riding / Splendid dashing steed. / My friend, distant buddy, / Reminisce of me!»