to Valentina Serova
Above our submarine's black nose she rises —
That Venus, which is like no other star!
We men, long missing out on girls' caresses,
Await her like a woman from afar.
Like you, each day she rises slightly later,
And as the heavenly bodies rise and sink,
Some unexpected stars may rise beside her,
Much nearer to her than I like to think.
Their shameful glow betrays their cowardice;
Among such stars I never shall be found.
But they are there beside you in the heavens,
And I am here, forgotten on the ground.
I'll never bid farewell to earthly danger
To freeze in peace, as they do, in the sky.
Be like a shooting star — fall down from heaven!
Stretch out your arms to me on earth and fly!
In heaven they love women from ennui
And let them go in peace, without much woe.
Just fall into these earthly arms to me!
I'm not a star. I'll never let you go...
Над черным носом нашей субмарины
Взошла Венера — странная звезда.
От женских ласк отвыкшие мужчины,
Как женщину, мы ждем ее сюда.
Она, как ты, восходит все позднее,
И, нарушая ход небесных тел,
Другие звезды всходят рядом с нею,
Гораздо ближе, чем бы я хотел.
Они горят трусливо и бесстыже.
Я никогда не буду в их числе,
Пускай они к тебе на небе ближе,
Чем я, тобой забытый на земле.
Я не прощусь с опасностью земною,
Чтоб в мирном небе мерзнуть, как они,
Стань лучше ты падучею звездою,
Ко мне на землю руки протяни.
На небе любят женщину от скуки
И отпускают с миром, не скорбя...
Ты упадешь ко мне в земные руки,
Я не звезда. Я удержу тебя.
«There are twins. For the earthborn / they are gods, Death and Sleep, / like brother and sister wondrously akin, / Death's the gloomier, Sleep is gentler. But there are two more twins: / there are no finer twins in the world, / and there's no fascination more fearsome / than he who's sur...»
«The telephone rang. / “Hello! Who’s there?” / “The Polar Bear.” / “What do you want?” / “I’m calling for the Elephant.” / “What does he want?” / “He wants a little Peanut brittle.” / “Peanut brittle!.. / And for whom?” “It’s for his little Elephan...»
«From the cycle LENIN I Lenin has the spirit of an Old Believer, / Intones his decrees like a priest, / And looks to the Pomorian Responses1 / For the source of all our grief. Now the land belongs to the peasants, / The Church is no longer a state serf. / Now a bright new word chimes for...»
«And while above Tsarskoye Selo1 / Akhmatova’s song and tears were pouring, / I, unwinding the skein of the sorceress, / Plodded through the desert like a sleepy corpse2, / There where impossibility lay dying: / An exhausted mummer Determined to break through. / And meanwhile in dark ca...»