I, who have traveled half my earthly road,
make my appearance in the Luxembourg
and contemplate the petrified gray curls
of thinkers and of scribblers. Gents and broads
are strolling to and fro ; a whiskered
blue copper glistens from the thicket ;
the fountain purrs, the children laugh
and not a soul to greet with “Bugger off”.
And you, untiring, Mary, stand and stand,
in the stone garland of your girl-friends –stunned
French queens of once-upon-has-been,
in silence, with a sparrow in your hair.
You’d think the garden was a cross between
The Pantheon and Déjeuner sur l’herbe.
Земной свой путь пройдя до середины,
я, заявившись в Люксембургский сад,
смотрю на затвердевшие седины
мыслителей, письменников; и взад-
вперед гуляют дамы, господины,
жандарм синеет в зелени, усат,
фонтан мурлычит, дети голосят,
и обратиться не к кому с «иди на».
И ты, Мари, не покладая рук,
стоишь в гирлянде каменных подруг —
французских королев во время оно —
безмолвно, с воробьем на голове.
Сад выглядит, как помесь Пантеона
со знаменитой «Завтрак на траве».
«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!»