Rock and rock me, starry boat!
My head is weary of breaking waves!
For too long I’ve lost my moorings, —
My head is weary of thinking:
Of hymns — of laurels — of heroes — of hydras, —
My head is weary of pretensions!
Lay me out among grasses and pine-needles, —
My head is weary of wars...
Закачай меня, звёздный чёлн!
Голова устала от волн!
Слишком долго причалить тщусь, —
Голова устала от чувств:
Гимнов — лавров — героев — гидр, —
Голова устала от игр!
Положите меж трав и хвой, —
Голова устала от войн…
«I can't force a line. I am finished. Run dry. / Try this way, and that — everything is awry. / The river is freezing, and grey is the sky — / the season of birdlessness, ice and stagnation. / All kinds of boloney, in endless supply, / creep into my thinking and feed my frustration, / ...»
«OK, it has happened. Your cranes have returned. / The air of hunting is filling your sheets. / Your powder's dry in your powder-horns. / Oh, well, this is great! / / And even the stars play in favor of you, / and all constellations play into your hands, / in daring thoughts you're a n...»
«Everybody chooses for himself / His religion, loyalties and women. / Service to a prophet, or a demon, / Everybody chooses for himself. Everybody chooses on his own / The word for loving and the word for praying, / A dueling foil, a sword for dragonslaying. / Everybody chooses on his ...»
«He has a photo of himself / next to a girlfriend, friend and neighbor; / at leisure and in tireless labor; / holding a flute, a ball, a saber; / himself — raising glass of wine; / himself — receiving a diploma; / himself — in front of roofs and walls, / at gates of Sodom and Go...»