When midnight has come on the desolate slough,
Scarce heard are the reeds, so softly they sough.
Of what do they whisper and talk to and fro?
For what are the flamelets amongst them aglow?
They shimmer, they glimmer, and once more they wane,
Then the wandering light is enkindled again.
When midnight has come, then the reeds are aquake;
They harbour the toad and the hiss of the snake.
In the slough is aquiver a perishing gaze:
'Tis the purple-hued moon that forlornly decays.
There is odour of slime. And the soddenness crawls.
The marsh will allure and engulf as it mauls.
"But whom ? And for what — "say the reeds to and fro, —
"For what are the flamelets amongst us aglow?"
But the moon that forlornly and mutely decays
Cannot tell. But yet lower she settles her gaze
'Tis the sigh of a perishing spirit that now
The reeds softly raise as they mournfully sough.
Полночной порою в болотной глуши
Чуть слышно, бесшумно, шуршат камыши.
О чём они шепчут? О чём говорят?
Зачем огоньки между ними горят?
5 Мелькают, мигают, — и снова их нет.
И снова забрезжил блуждающий свет.
Полночной порой камыши шелестят.
В них жабы гнездятся, в них змеи свистят.
В болоте дрожит умирающий лик.
10 То Месяц багровый печально поник.
И тиной запахло. И сырость ползёт.
Трясина заманит, сожмёт, засосёт.
«Кого? Для чего?» — камыши говорят.
«Зачем огоньки между нами горят?»
15 Но Месяц печальный безмолвно поник.
Не знает. Склоняет всё ниже свой лик.
И, вздох повторяя погибшей души,
Тоскливо, бесшумно, шуршат камыши.
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