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!
«My little almond tree / Is gay with gleaming bloom, / My heart unwillingly / Puts forth its buds of gloom. The bloom will leave the tree, / The fruit, unbidden, grow. / And the green boughs will be / By bitter loads brought low.»
«A well, and the cherry trees swaying / Where bare girlish feet trod the fruit; / Nearby the damp imprint betraying / The stamp of a heavy nailed boot. Stilled now is the place of their meeting, / But nothing the silence avails: / In my brain passion's echo repeating / Their whispers—t...»
«Oh, the ricks, the ricks, / In the meadows lying, / The eye cannot count / You, for all its trying. Oh, the ricks, the ricks, / In the green morasses, / What do you guard: / You heaped, heavy masses? Pray, behold us, good sir: / We were once bright flowers; / But the sharp scythe f...»
«Believe me not, dear, when in hours of anguish / I say my love for thee exists no more. / At ebb of tide, think not the sea is faithless; / It will return with love unto the shore. E'en now I pine for thee with old-time passion, / And place my freedom in thy hands once more. / Already, wi...»