12
His friends — do not bother him!
His servants — do not bother him!
From his face it was evident deemed:
Not from this world does my kingdom come.
Eternal snowstorms circled the veins
Hunched-over shoulders bent from the wings,
In singing cut, into baked-over flame
He let his soul go like a swan.
Fall then, O fall then, copper heavy!
Wings are ordained correctly: To fly!
Lips, that have shouted the word: Reply! —
They know, that this is not there — to die!
He drinks the dawn, drinks the sea —
Revels in full. — Don't serve the requiem!
Of one who forever ordered: Be! —
There is enough bread left to feed him!
Други его — не тревожьте его!
Слуги его — не тревожьте его!
Было так ясно на лике его:
Царство моё не от мира сего.
Вещие вьюги кружили вдоль жил,
Плечи сутулые гнулись от крыл,
В певчую прорезь, в запёкшийся пыл —
Лебедем душу свою упустил!
Падай же, падай же, тяжкая медь!
Крылья изведали право: лететь!
Губы, кричавшие слово: ответь! —
Знают, что этого нет — умереть!
Зори пьёт, море пьёт — в полную сыть
Бражничает. — Панихид не служить!
У навсегда повелевшего: быть! —
Хлеба достанет его накормить!
«I loved you, once: and love, it could well be, / Within my soul lies unextinguished yet. / But let the thought no longer trouble you. / I would not bring you anguish or regret. / I loved you with no words and to no end / Now timorous, now jealous, pain by pain. / I loved you though so te...»
«I still recall a wonder vision. / The moment you before me shone, / A fleeting Genius apparition, / A perfect beauty paragon. Through hopeless sorrow that oppressed me, / Through life's alarm and senseless schemes / That caring voice and soul caressed me, / And that dear face would fill...»
«When din of day for mortals softly ends / And down on the mute city squares / The half-transparent shade of night descends / With slumber, balm of daylong cares, / Then, in the still for me the hours bring / Exhausting sleepless pains anew. / Searing...»
«With freedom's seed across the land, / Before the star of morn I passed. / My uncorrupt and guiltless hand / Through subjugated furrows cast / The life-bestowing germ I bore, / A waste of time and nothing more. / A well-intended, futile task... Pasture away, there, docile nation / Tha...»