I don’t know the wisdom others seem to need,
Only little transient things I pour in my verse.
Everything that’s transient contains whole worlds for me,
Full of rainbow colors, shifting, playing, free.
Wise men, do not curse me. What am I to you?
See, I’m nothing but a cloud, a cloud that’s full of fire.
See, I’m nothing but a cloud. Watch me floating by.
And I cry out to dreams... But to you I do not cry.
Я не знаю мудрости, годной для других,
Только мимолётности я влагаю в стих.
В каждой мимолётности вижу я миры,
Полные изменчивой радужной игры.
Не кляните, мудрые. Что вам до меня?
Я ведь только облачко, полное огня.
Я ведь только облачко. Видите: Плыву.
И зову мечтателей… Вас я не зову!
«I loved you, once: and love, it could well be, / Within my soul lies unextinguished yet. / But let the thought no longer trouble you. / I would not bring you anguish or regret. / I loved you with no words and to no end / Now timorous, now jealous, pain by pain. / I loved you though so te...»
«I still recall a wonder vision. / The moment you before me shone, / A fleeting Genius apparition, / A perfect beauty paragon. Through hopeless sorrow that oppressed me, / Through life's alarm and senseless schemes / That caring voice and soul caressed me, / And that dear face would fill...»
«When din of day for mortals softly ends / And down on the mute city squares / The half-transparent shade of night descends / With slumber, balm of daylong cares, / Then, in the still for me the hours bring / Exhausting sleepless pains anew. / Searing...»
«With freedom's seed across the land, / Before the star of morn I passed. / My uncorrupt and guiltless hand / Through subjugated furrows cast / The life-bestowing germ I bore, / A waste of time and nothing more. / A well-intended, futile task... Pasture away, there, docile nation / Tha...»