From a strict and elegant temple
On the squealing of squares you alight.
Freedom! The beautiful lady
Of marquises and Russian knights.
A dreadful rehearsal is on now —
Still ahead is the mass!
O freedom! The partying woman
On the mad soldier's chest!
Из строгого, стройного храма
Ты вышла на визг площадей…
— Свобода! — Прекрасная Дама
Маркизов и русских князей.
Свершается страшная спевка, —
Обедня ещё впереди!
— Свобода! — Гулящая девка
На шалой солдатской груди!
«The moon illuminates the eaves, / And skims the crests of waves at night… / The chilly hands of the marquise / Are fragrant, delicate and light. “O Prince! — she curtsies and exhales, — / “In quadrille, you’re the vis-à-vis,” — / The mask conceals her turning pale / Fro...»
«These words I speak now come to me but once / To blossom in my soul and quickly fade. / A bee is buzzing, settling on white mums, / And there’s a musty smell of old sachet. The room with narrow windows with precision / Recalls old times, preserves the love I knew. / Over the bed, there...»
«Bare arms, and eyes intent, / Ice-blue, they pull you in, / And like a tan, the pungent scent / Of tar befits your skin. Your collar’s opened wide, / Your jacket shimmers blue. / The fisherwomen sigh / And blush on seeing you. Even the girl who sells / Anchovies, mouth agape, / S...»
«He loved three things in this world: / Evensong, peacocks of white, / And old tattered maps of America. / He despised it when little kids bawled, / Hated tea with preserves, and disliked / Women acting hysterical. / ...And I was his wife.»