After a sleepless night my body grows weaker,
Becomes sweet and no one’s — no longer mine.
In the slow veins the arrows still flicker,
And like a seraph, I smile at passers-by.
After a sleepless night my arms grow languid;
Friend or foe, my indifference is complete.
A full rainbow unfolds from a chance sound
And the scent of Florence stuns in a frozen street.
My lips lighten tenderly, shadows golden
Round my sunken eyes. It is the night that lit
This luminous face. And when the dark night’s over,
Only our eyes stay darkened, and that is it.
После бессонной ночи слабеет тело,
Милым становится и не своим, — ничьим.
В медленных жилах ещё занывают стрелы —
И улыбаешься людям, как серафим.
После бессонной ночи слабеют руки
И глубоко равнодушен и враг и друг.
Целая радуга — в каждом случайном звуке,
И на морозе Флоренцией пахнет вдруг.
Нежно светлеют губы, и тень золоче
Возле запавших глаз. Это ночь зажгла
Этот светлейший лик, — и от тёмной ночи
Только одно темнеет у нас — глаза.
«Through tannic steam I catch a glimpse of Fuji: / Against a yellow sky volcanic gold / A saucer narrows nature very strangely, / In shallow ripples lovely to behold. / The clouds, like little webs, like spider legs, / Are pierced by sun no bigger than a mote, / And bird-fish, ...»
«To fling slant links / into mirror / sphere space, — / maniacal parabolas, / jingling, curl up a / stubbled raceme. Tribal, zodiacal, / fields flame, / ether bubbles, / but all intersects / yield the still- / lettered scheme / of your name!»
«As girls dream of grooms, / You and I talk of art. / O secret flock of cranes! / Lithe lurch of living flights! Catherine is betrothed to Christ; / One soul throbs two hearts. / Wind whips cheeks of bloom, / Eyes go down in flames. Winged and tangled blurts, / "I love" not quite rest...»
«The sense of your bidding is unclear: / to pray, to curse, is it, to fight / you bid me, inscrutable genius? / The spring slackens, niggard, meager, / and Benozzo Gozzoli's courier / dozes in the drowsy thickets. Hills are dark with honeyed cloud. / Look: I do not touch lithe strings. /...»