Dethroned, to my substance-bound trap
I nose-dived, a higher will's transgressor.
A beam of joy decays to pain no lesser
Refracted by the nature's carnal sap.
All winds a-nest a rose in my lap.
But every tone suffers its suppressor
In every beat — so should I still confess for
The temper colors wrap me step by step?
Crime makes me pure. Death inspires. Prison
Delivers me. Prostration gives me might.
I lost my wings — not depth to take my ease on.
Come on, tormentor! Bloody eagle, bite!
All voices in my syrinx meet arisen
Like rainbow ties the gamut crucified.
2
На дно миров пловцом спустился я —
Мятежный дух, ослушник высшей воли.
Луч радости на семицветность боли
Во мне разложен влагой бытия.
Во мне звучит всех духов лития,
Но семь цветов разъяты в каждой доле
Одной симфонии. Не оттого ли
Отливами горю я, как змея?
Я свят грехом. Я смертью жив. В темнице
Свободен я. Бессилием — могуч.
Лишённый крыл, в паренье равен птице.
Клюй, коршун, печень! Бей, кровавый ключ!
Весь хор светил — един в моей цевнице,
Как в радуге — един распятый луч.
«You aren’t yet dead, and you are not as yet alone, / As long as with your beggared lover / By joy of wide expanses of the plains you’re thrown / As dark and cold and blizzards cover. In lavish destitution and in mighty dearth / Then live in peace and consolation. / For blessed then th...»
«The drifting smoke was melting in the frosty air, / And I, oppressed by freedom’s sadness, lingering there, / Wished only to ascend to cold and quiet singing, / To disappear for ever, but my fate was bringing Me down the snowy street upon the evening hour / Where dog was barking at the su...»
«We’re unable to live, for this country’s absurd, / At ten paces’ remove are our voices unheard, / But opinion, when muttered, half-spoken, / Kremlin highlander’s spectre’s awoken. / Podgy fingers he has that are meaty like worms, / But his speech is deliberate, its measure confir...»
«When red October’s dim time-server for us made / A yoke of bloodshed and of malice, / And armoured car, aggressive, then enforced blockade / And loomed an apish gunner, callous — And “Crucify Kerensky!” irate soldier brayed, / And angry mob on cue applauded: / Then Pilate let them...»