Nothing but anniversaries, anniversaries...
Our liter reeks like a kitchen!
To judge by it, all Russia
Is teeming with great men:
After their deaths, it’s certain.
Following magnificent empty sanctimonies,
A hundred Pantheons
And a hundred Westminster Abbeys won’t suffice.
Всё юбилеи, юбилеи…
Жизнь наша кухнею разит!
Судя по ним, людьми большими
Россия вся кишмя-кишит;
По смерти их, и это ясно,
Вослед великих пустосвятств,
Не хватит нам ста Пантеонов
И ста Вестминстерских аббатств…
«As a wavy cloud, / Dust soars from wind gust; / Horsed man or dismounted — / Can't see in the dust! / / I see: someone's riding / Splendid dashing steed. / My friend, distant buddy, / Reminisce of me!»
«I have come to please you, dear, / To impart the sun be ardent, / Tell you that its glares quiver / On the leaves of the green garden; / Come to tell you: in the forest / Branches talk with animation, / Every early bird is earnest, — / Woods are full of a spring passion. /...»
«Do not elude — I will not sue / For your heart pain, nor secret worrying, / I want to plunge myself in mourning / And to repeat that I love you. / / It is suffice for me to fly / To you like waves run by the water — / To kiss cold granite I have gotten, / To kiss and after ...»
«The sounds have calmed down in the wood, / Soon the sunrays will stop be shining either... / My beautiful friend, oh, how much I would / Be glad to see you coming to me hither! Oh, how soon the charming childish word / To frightfulness will turn intense impatience? / Oh, how soon, li...»