Soon from swallows — into sorcerers!
Youth! We will say farewell before then...
We will stand in the wind soul to soul!
My tan one! My sister console!
With a skirt of raspberry flare,
You my youth! My dove you are
Tan! Waste of my soul!
You my youth! Dance and console!
Wash me with a shawl of azure,
My insane one! We have played with you
For a plenty! Dance a while and spar!
My gold — farewell — amber!
For a reason your arms touch I,
Like to a lover I say goodbye.
Torn away from depths within my breast —
My youth! Go to someone else!
Скоро уж из ласточек — в колдуньи!
Молодость! Простимся накануне…
Постоим с тобою на ветру!
Смуглая моя! Утешь сестру!
Полыхни малиновою юбкой,
Молодость моя! Моя голубка
Смуглая! Раззор моей души!
Молодость моя! Утешь, спляши!
Полосни лазоревою шалью,
Шалая моя! Пошалевали
Досыта с тобой! — Спляши, ошпарь!
Золотце моё — прощай — янтарь!
Неспроста руки твоей касаюсь,
Как с любовником с тобой прощаюсь.
Вырванная из грудных глубин —
Молодость моя! — Иди к другим!
____
Молодость. 1. Молодость моя! Моя чужая...
Молодость. 2. Скоро уж из ласточек — в колдуньи!..
«The signs of the Zodiac are fading / Above the wide expanse of fields. / And the animal, the Dog, sleeps, / And the bird, the Sparrow, slumbers. / Mermaids soar, broad in the beam, / Soar straight up into the heavens, / With their arms as stout as boughs / And their breasts as round as...»
«Let us now praise freedom's twilight, / The glorious twilit year! / Into the midnight boiling waters / A massive forest of snares is lowered. / You rise above obscure years, — / O sun, O judge, my people. Let us praise the fateful burden / The people's leader takes up tearfully. — /...»
«Brethren, let’s praise the dusk of freedom / With its great year of twilit gloom, / Its hefty grove of dangling snares / Cast into the night’s jet-black waters! / From under a deaf age’s yoke / You rise, O sun! O judge! O folk! And let us praise the fatal burden / Taken up in tear...»
«Whoever kisses time’s ancient nodding head / will remember later, like a loving son, / how the old man lay down to sleep / in the drift of wheat outside the window. / He who has opened the eyes of the age, / two large sleepy apples with inflamed lids, / hears forever after the roar of ...»