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!
«Blessings to you, the unbearable pain! / Our fair gray eyed king will no longer reign. One autumn evening was stuffy and red, / My dear old husband solemnly said: "Hunters brought him all wrapped up in a cloak, / They found his dead body at the old oak. Pity the queen. He was so young and g...»
«Through macrocosm and scintillating orbs / I say the name of One Celestial Lover… / Not that I have been loving Her before, / But that I have been wearied by the others. And if the doubt exacts a heavy toll, / She is the One I’m begging for true guidance, / Not that She brings mor...»
«My friend, there’s joy and love, and all’s / Recurring in this ancient world, / Although not in our hearts, in others’. / But my dear mate, and you and me — / We’re only Beauty’s reverie, / We’re drops in the eternal chalice / Of timele...»
«You are a woman; you’re a book of books, / You are a scroll furled up upon impression; / Its lines replete with words and ruminations, / And every instant’s wild in its crooks. You are a woman, the witches brew creation, / Which sets on fire hardly reaching lips, / But fire-swallowers...»