Strong and wealthy have a hard time,
It is hard to all the lords.
I won't lower the light eyes
A red soldier before.
City's moaning and carousing,
Moon in cloud made of wine.
Not a living soul will touch me:
Poor and arrogant am I.
Плохо сильным и богатым,
Тяжко барскому плечу.
А вот я перед солдатом
Светлых глаз не опущу.
Город буйствует и стонет,
В винном облаке — луна.
А меня никто не тронет:
Я надменна и бедна.
«How spacious are these squares, / How resonant bridges and stark! / Heavy, peaceful, and starless / Is the covering of the dark. And we walk on the fresh snow / As if we were mortal people. / That we are together this hour / Unseparable — is it not a miracle? The knees go unwitting...»
«"My dear, if we could only / Reach all the way to the seas" / "Be quiet" and descended the stairs / Losing breath and looking for keys. Past the buildings, where sometime / We danced and had fun and drank wine / Past the white columns of Senate / Where it's dark, dark again. "What are ...»
«When with a strong but tired hand / In dreary capital of nation / Upon the whiteness of the page / I did record my recantations, And wind into the window round / Poured in a wet and silent stream / The sky was burning, burning bright / With smoky dawn, it did so seem. / / I did not...»
«Upon the swan pond maple leaves / Are fully gathered already, / And bloodied are the branches dark / Of slowly blooming quicken-tree. Blindingly elegant is she, / Crossing her legs that don't feel cold / Upon the northern stone sits she / And calmly looks upon the road. I felt the gl...»