My soul is borne out on the wind.
Through the opaqueness of her earthly case she glitters like a sword.
She is free; she rides her body as the whirlwind the storm.
She is free from the death of the flesh.
Her passage is brief as the lightning,
As the flash of the outgoing sea-gull,
Or the slipping frigate!
She is the juggler who raises the dead,
With whom the spirits speak.
The soul is beautiful! Proud in her beauty she laughs at life
And drinks deep of the day.
And she casts herself on the wing of the wind,
Breasting the uppermost height.
Душа откуда-то приносится Ветрами,
Чтоб жить, светясь в земных телах.
Она, свободная, как вихрь владеет нами,
В обманно-смертных наших снах.
Она как молния, она как буревестник,
Как ускользающий фрегат,
Как воскрешающий — отшедших в смерть — кудесник,
С которым духи говорят.
Душа — красивая, она смеётся с нами,
Она поёт на тёмном дне.
И как приносится, уносится с Ветрами,
Чтоб жить в безмерной вышине.
«When slumber’s depths are fell descending / On darkened city in the night, / When turns the blizzard’s fretful bending / At chime upon the belfries’ height — How scarily the heart then freezes! / How mournful at this very hour, / Fly through the stormy, screaming breezes / The m...»
«Wakened by the shadows’ probing / Snowy windows with their arc — / Isaac’s swarthy gold dome’s robing / Glimmers, beautiful and dark. Doleful, snowy morning settles, / Isaac’s cross wears misty shroud. / At the window pigeons nestle, / Snug against the glass they crowd. All i...»
«What I have given is yours. / Shota Rustaveli I speak from underneath the ruins here, / From underneath the landslide I am shrieking, / As if in quicklime now I disappear / Beneath a cellar’s arches, where it’s reeking. And in the winter, silence I will feign, / For good I’ll slam ...»
«I languish still in ardent yearning, / And hunger for your spirit still — / In memories, still, as day is turning, / Caught image causes me to thrill… / Sweet image that I cannot banish / Remains before me everywhere, / Elusive, it will never vanish, / Like stars aloft in ink-black...»