It’s cold in the world! A bed
Seems like heaven in autumn.
The hop is wavered by wind,
The hop prattles above the barn;
The rain repeats: pit-a-pat,
Onto the courtyard, pours and pours...
The light from the window — so weak!
To a child’s heart — so bitter!
The brother rubs in thought
Both eyes with a little hand:
The poor is awakened! It’s now
The turn of the tomboy sister.
A sponge and a washbasin
In a dark corner — at hand.
It’s cold! A doll without eyes
Is sombrely scowling:
It pities the little sunshine!
In the hall — trembling sounds...
The pianoforte, slightly
Touched by mother’s hands.
Холодно в мире! Постель
Осенью кажется раем.
Ветром колеблется хмель,
Треплется хмель над сараем;
Дождь повторяет: кап-кап,
Льётся и льётся на дворик...
Свет из окошка — так слаб!
Детскому сердцу — так горек!
Братец в раздумий трёт
Сонные глазки ручонкой:
Бедный разбужен! Черёд
За баловницей сестрёнкой.
Мыльная губка и таз
В тёмном углу — наготове.
Холодно! Кукла без глаз
Мрачно нахмурила брови:
Куколке солнышка жаль!
В зале — дрожащие звуки...
Это тихонько рояль
Тронули мамины руки.
«We’ve done enough, we’ve said enough — / let’s sit in silence, without smiling; / low-lying clouds are shedding snow / and heaven’s light is slowly fading. The brittle willows rage and split / in an unspeakable pitched battle. / "Until tomorrow, then," I say. / "As for today, ...»
«At blazing noon, in Dagestan’s deep valley, / a bullet in my chest, dead still I lay, / as steam yet rose above my wound, I tallied / each drop of blood, as life now now seeped away. Alone I lay within a sandy hollow, / as jagged ledges teemed there, rising steep, / with sun-scorched pe...»
«We pronounced / the simplest, poorest words / as if they had never been said. / We were saying / sun, light, grass / as people pronounce / life, love, strength. Remembered how we cleared / that eternal, accursed glacier / from the city streets — and an old man / stamped his foot...»
«He did not return, even after his death, to / That ancient city he was rooted in. / Going away, he did not pause for breath / Nor look back. My song is for him. / Torches, night, a last embrace, / Fate, a wild howl, at his threshold. / Out of hell he sent her his curse / And in heaven ...»