Strait the passage, slender, long,
Reaching depths where visions throng.
Sinking down, you turn your eyes
Where an ice-wrought castle lies.
When from here you sink below,
Twinkling shafts of colour glow;
Someone's peeping eyes are seen —
Adamant and moonstone sheen.
There's the snowy opal; here
Budding emeralds appear.
Hearken — in these castles be
Flutes and lutes and dainty glee.
Whose may be the feet that don
Crystal shoon you gaze upon?
Ice in pillars, lustre, snow,
Dainty, flaky, pearly glow.
Strait the passage, slender, long,
Reaching realms where splendours throng;
But to find the path you need,
You must set your foot with heed.
Тонкий, узкий, длинный ход
В глубь земли мечту ведёт.
Только спустишься туда,
Встретишь замки изо льда.
Чуть сойдёшь отсюда вниз,
Разноцветности зажглись,
Смотрит чей-то светлый глаз,
Лунный камень и алмаз.
Там опал снежит, а тут
Расцветает изумруд.
И услышишь в замках тех
Флейты, лютни, нежный смех.
И увидишь чьих-то ног
Там хрустальный башмачок.
Льды, колонны, свет, снега,
Нежность, снежность, жемчуга.
Тонкий, узкий, длинный ход
В этот светлый мир ведёт.
Но, чтоб знать туда пути,
Нужно бережно идти.
«Your tormenting, wonderful, / inevitable beauty / ripped me out of my thin, / miserable, puling life, And I died. And I saw / a flame no one ever saw / before; my eyes went black, but I saw / a dark-blue star. A song: soft, then loud, then soft: / body and soul melting: / that was ...»
«I was torn out of this narrow life. / This meager, ordinary life, / By your tormenting, wondrous, / Irresistible beauty. And I died... and I saw a flame. / One that had never been seen before, / Before my dazzled eyes / Shone a blue star. Transforming my spirit and my body, / A music...»
«When snowstorms howl like beasts at night, / A raging growl unbroken, / Never shut your door uptight, / Let your door stand open. / If you must journey far away / Where hardship's bound to find you / You should make sure you leave that day / An open door behind you. / Departing in si...»
«I love the rustling of the birches / When yellow leaves from birches fall, / And as I listen tears come surging / In eyes that seldom cry at all. All shall return to me in memory, / Stir a response in heart and blood, / Delight and pain me, as if somebody / Where softly whispering of lo...»