7
Like a silvery sapling
He darted upward.
That Zeus not
Espy him —
Pray!
At the first rustle
Take fear and alarm.
They are jealous of
Masculine charm.
More dreadful than the jaws
Of a beast – is their call.
The nest of the gods
Is jealous of charm.
With blossoms, with laurels
They’ll lure him aloft.
That Zeus not
Elect him —
Pray!
The whole sky in a thunder
Of eagles’ wings.
Crash down with your whole breast —
That they not conceal him.
In the aquiline thunder
— Oh beak! Oh blood! —
A miniscule lamb
Is dangling – Love…
With your hair unbound,
With your whole breast – prone!
That Zeus not
Exalt him —
Pray!
7
Ростком серебряным
Рванулся ввысь.
Чтоб не узрел его
Зевес —
Молись!
При первом шелесте
Страшись и стой.
Ревнивы к прелести
Они мужской.
Звериной челюсти
Страшней — их зов.
Ревниво к прелести
Гнездо богов.
Цветами, лаврами
Заманят ввысь.
Чтоб не избрал его
Зевес —
Молись!
Всё небо в грохоте
Орлиных крыл.
Всей грудью грохайся —
Чтоб не сокрыл.
В орлином грохоте
— О клюв! О кровь! —
Ягнёнок крохотный
Повис — Любовь…
Простоволосая,
Всей грудью — ниц…
Чтоб не вознёс его
Зевес —
Молись!
«The Christ-child had a garden, / And many roses He planted therein; / He had three times a day watered them, / In order to weave for Himself a garland later on. When those roses were in full bloom, / He called the Hebrew children ; / They plucked off every flower, / And the whole garden...»
«Before thee lies a broad new way. / Accept then my greeting, not loud, but hearty: / May thy bosom be, as it was, warmed / With love of thy fellow-man, with love of the eternal truth. Mayst thou not lose in the hard struggle with evil, / All of which at present thy soul is so full; / And ...»
«Fifteen boys and maybe more, / or feuer than fifteen, maybe, / said to me / in frightened voices: / "Let's go to a movie or the Museum of Fine Arts." / "I haven't time." / Fifteen boys presented me with snowdrops. / Fifteen boys in broken voices / said to me: / "Ill never stop lovi...»
«For how long will you keep in hiding / Behind the fog, ye Russian star, / Or will you stay forever priding / In stark delusions, false, bizarre? / / Could it be true, your shining glory / Would scatter like a shooting star, / When faced with gazes, greedy, gory, / So keen to reach y...»