I dedicate these lines to
Those who will arrange my coffin.
When you open my high,
Hated forehead.
Changed unnecessarily,
By a crown on my head, —
My own heart alien
Will I lie in the coffin.
They will not look at my face:
«I hear all! Can see all!
My being in that coffin still hurts
Being like them.»
In a white gown — in childhood's
Unloved color! —
Will I lie — with someone for company? —
Until the end of my years.
Listen! — I do not accept!
This — trap!
It will not be me you bury,
Not me.
I know! - All will be burnt to ashes!
And the grave will shelter
Nothing, that I loved,
or lived.
Посвящаю эти строки
Тем, кто мне устроит гроб.
Приоткроют мой высокий,
Ненавистный лоб.
Изменённая без нужды,
С венчиком на лбу,
Собственному сердцу чуждой
Буду я в гробу.
Не увидят на лице:
«Всё мне слышно! Всё мне видно!
Мне в гробу ещё обидно
Быть как все».
В платье белоснежном — с детства
Нелюбимый цвет! —
Лягу — с кем-то по соседству? —
До скончанья лет.
Слушайте! — Я не приемлю!
Это — западня!
Не меня опустят в землю,
Не меня.
Знаю! — Всё сгорит дотла!
И не приютит могила
Ничего, что я любила,
Чем жила.
«Out on horseback in the stillness. / Hooves resounding in the snow. / Only crows in dusty shrillness / Cackled in the meadow’s glow. Held by unseen fable’s rapture, / Forest slept beneath the drifts. / There in kerchief’s frozen capture / Pine displayed her snowy shifts. Crone-li...»
«Don’t distort your smile, away with teasing hands — / For I love another — off with your demands. Tell the truth, you know it — know it very well — / My regard’s not yours — another’s cast her spell. Passer-by I was. My heart’s not really here — / Only loitered then th...»
«On distant place my dreams are set / Where all can hear the cries and sobbing, / To share in alien sorrow’s net / And anguished grieving’s painful throbbing. For there, I’m sure that I can find / Delight in life and exaltation, / And there, escaping fortune’s bind, / I’ll cast...»
«I’m tired of life in my own land, / The boredom of the fields’ expanses, / I’m going to quit my cabin and / Like tramp or thief I’ll take my chances. I’ll chase the cloudy trails of day / In search of mean accommodation — / With knife in bootleg as I stray / That pal has str...»