S. E.
How comes into the middle
In battles of the Don —
Thus my dream is with you
In cities over the ocean.
For the paper dust they'll take
Bookcase from the wall.
All's for sale, and nonetheless
Memory's not for sale.
In a green wood full of firs
There's no such straight pine.
You and me, that is because,
From one cradle come.
Not for thousand fates — we're born
For one, you and me.
Nearer than bread to the palm —
Thus do we agree.
Fire and flood did not bear off
Finger of gold made!
In those sleepless hours we are
Nearer than to forehead, hand.
My widowhood will not accept
Neither miller, nor flour.
An inviolable bond:
In one crib we were.
In my chest my watch, once wound,
Did not rust, you know.
There's autocracy within
The red Russia, know.
May the whole world come to end —
At night service I will stand.
Thus with you before the wall —
As to others with a garland.
And now, keen before me, you!
Brothers, do not yawn!
Thus together we come at night:
Our crib was one.
С. Э.
Как по тем донским боям, —
В серединку самую,
По заморским городам
Всё с тобой мечта моя.
Со стены сниму кивот
За труху бумажную.
Всё продажное, а вот
Память не продажная.
Нет сосны такой прямой
Во зелёном ельнике.
Оттого что мы с тобой —
Одноколыбельники.
Не для тысячи судеб —
Для единой родимся.
Ближе, чем с ладонью хлеб —
Так с тобою сходимся.
Не унёс пожар-потоп
Перстенька червонного!
Ближе, чем с ладонью лоб
В те часы бессонные.
Не возьмёт моё вдовство
Ни муки, ни мельника…
Нерушимое родство:
Одноколыбельники.
Знай, в груди моей часы
Как завёл — не ржавели.
Знай, на красной на Руси
Всё ж самодержавие!
Пусть весь свет идёт к концу —
Достою у всенощной!
Чем с другим каким к венцу —
Так с тобою к стеночке.
— Ну-кось, до меня охоч!
Не зевай, брательники!
Так вдвоём и канем в ночь:
Одноколыбельники.
«Not long we basked in the illusion / Of love, of hope, of quiet fame; / Like morning mists, a dream's delusion, / Youth's pastimes vanished as they came. / But still, with strong desires burning, / Beneath oppression's fateful hand, / The summons of the fatherland / We are impatiently ...»
«From Aesculapius escaping, / I'm lean and shaven, but alive; / His cruel paw no more torments me, / And there is hope that I may thrive. / Now health, the light friend of Priapus, / And sleep, are entering my door, / And in my plain and crowded corner / Repose becomes my guest once mor...»
«I love the festive board / Where joy's the one presiding, / And freedom, my adored, / The banquet's course is guiding. / When "Drink!" half-drowns the song / That only morning throttles, / When wide-flung is the throng, / And close the jostling bottles.»
«Below the dawn-flushed sky, where the green billow lies / Caressing Tauris' flank, I saw a Nereid rise. / Breathless for joy I lay, hid in the olive trees, / And watched the demi-goddess riding the rosy seas. / The waters lapped about her swan-white breast and young, / As from her long sof...»