I'll repeat in hour of parting
When love comes to end
That I loved, yes that I loved truly
Your masterful hands
And the eyes — somebody isn't
Gifted with a glance! —
Those that answer are demanding
For a look every chance.
You with your thrice-cursed passion —
God sees all, say I!
And demanding a payment for
An accidental sigh.
And I tiredly say, to listen
Hurry not at all!
Why is it that your own soul
Stands across my soul.
And again I'll also tell you:
All the same — hear this! —
Far too young was this my mouth
For your gentle kiss.
Glance is luminous and daring,
Heart — like five year old...
Happy's he who did not meet you
On your road.
Повторю в канун разлуки,
Под конец любви,
Что любила эти руки
Властные твои
И глаза — кого-кого-то
Взглядом не дарят! —
Требующие отчёта
За случайный взгляд.
Всю тебя с твоей треклятой
Страстью — видит Бог! —
Требующую расплаты
За случайный вздох.
И ещё скажу устало,
— Слушать не спеши! —
Что твоя душа мне встала
Поперёк души.
И ещё тебе скажу я:
— Всё равно — канун! —
Этот рот до поцелуя
Твоего был юн.
Взгляд — до взгляда — смел и светел,
Сердце — лет пяти…
Счастлив, кто тебя не встретил
На своём пути.
«For a long time I stood without moving / Peering at the distant stars, – / Between those stars and me / Unbidden, there grew a bond. I thought... but what, I recall not; / I heard a mysterious choir, / The stars, they silently trembled, / I’ve loved them from that moment on...»
«Oh, if it’s true that in the night / When living men are sleeping, / And from the sky the pale moonlight / Slides over the gravestones, / Oh, if it’s only true that at that time / The silent graves open, / I call the shade of Leila and wait for her: / To me, my dear, come here to m...»
«The moon's cold gold, / The perfume of the oleander and gillyflowers. / It's pleasant to wander in such calmness / Of a blue gentle land. Faraway there's Baghdad, / Where Scheherazada lived and sang. / But now she needs nothing, / An ancient rung garden has rung away. The faraway lands...»
«In Horossan there are such doors, / Where the porch is thrown over with roses. / There, lives a thoughtful peri. / In Horossan there are such doors, / But I couldn't open those doors. I have enough force in my hands, / And in my hair both gold and bronze. / The peri's voice is tender an...»