4.
War, war! — burn incense before the icons!
And the clatter of spurs.
But the Tsar's proclamations do not concern me,
Neither do the poeople's quarrels.
I seem on a fraiyed tightrope
I — a tiny dancer.
I — the shadow of someone's shadow.
I — a sleepwalker
Between two dark moons.
4
Война, война! — Кажденья у киотов
И стрёкот шпор.
Но нету дела мне до царских счётов,
Народных ссор.
На, кажется, — надтреснутом — канате
Я — маленький плясун.
Я тень от чьей-то тени. Я лунатик
Двух тёмных лун.
«In my long dark braids interwoven / Is a delicate silvery strand, — / Voiceless nightingale, such torment, / Only you could understand. You hear everything around you, / Ruffled, breathless, gazing straight / At the willow’s fronds — astounded, / If a stranger’s song is played....»
«"Sister, I have come to take your place, / In the forest, by the fire’s blaze. Your hair grew gray. Over the years, / Your eyes were dulled and fogged by tears. You don’t grasp the bird song from afar. / You don’t see the summer lightning or the stars. Your tambourine no longer plays ...»
«I know, I know — the skis will soon / Again crunch on the snow. / Up in the sky, an orange moon, / And charming slopes below. The palace windows are all bright, / In quietness set back. / No trails and no roads in sight, / Just ice holes shining black. Tree of mermaids, do not welter...»
«A golden dovecote by the water, / A comforting, alluring-green; / The salty breeze wipes out the sheen / From gondolas, restoring order. Strange, gentle people everywhere. / Bright souvenirs in every window: / A winged lion on a pillow / And on the column in the square. Old, faded canv...»