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.
«The sailors near the port / shouted in chorus, demanding wine, / and over Stambul and over the Bosphorus / the full moon shone. Tonight they will hurl an unfaithful wife / to the bottom of the bay, / a wife who was too beautiful / and looked like the moon. She loved her daydreams, / ...»
«Describing circle after circle, / The wheeling kite looks down upon / A dream-like, empty meadow. A mother / Grieves in the cabin for her son: / “Here, suck this breast, here, take this bread. / Grow up, be humble, trust in God.” The ages pass, endless war rages, / Revolt flares, vi...»
«Over the empty fields a black kite hovers, / And circle after circle smoothly weaves. / In the poor hut, over her son in the cradle / A mother grieves: / “There, suck my brest: there grow and take our bread, / And learn to bear your cross and bow your head.” Time passes. War returns. ...»
«1. Black night. / White snow. / The wind, the wind! / Impossible to stay on your feet. / The wind, the wind! / Blowing across God’s world! The wind swirls round / The clean, white snow. / Under the snow — there’s ice. / It’s sl...»