Helix stairs. Put away the fear.
Light of mind... the boundless unlocks.
Shadows of saints are shining here,
Flap of feathers, screeches of white flocks.
Far below, in temples, the undying
Litany; the earthly sighs' repeat.
I am treading an arête of diamond,
Spires of cathedrals sting my feet.
Under, grapes of luminaries blazing,
Dust of globes and stars' unreeling gloss.
You are the eternal spirit's brazen
Nails of execution on the cross.
Rip apart, the curtain of the temple,
Firmament of azure, free my breath!
Here are the chains for you to trample —
Wave the torch of life, fiery Death!
Вьются ввысь прозрачные ступени,
Дух горит… и дали без границ.
Здесь святых сияющие тени,
Шелест крыл и крики белых птиц.
А внизу, глубоко — в древнем храме
Вздох земли подъемлет лития.
Я иду алмазными путями,
Жгут ступни соборов острия.
Под ногой сияющие грозди —
Пыль миров и пламя белых звезд.
Вы, миры, — вы огненные гвозди,
Вечный дух распявшие на крест.
Разорвись, завеса в тёмном храме,
Разомкнись, лазоревая твердь!
Вот она, как ангел, над мирами,
Факел жизни — огненная Смерть!
«Cease thy song, nightingale, / Here before my window! / Fly away, nightingale, / To my village grove. / And there light on the window / Of my sweetheart-love. / Sing to her there a song / Of my anguish, pain. / Say I wither, I die, / Here away from my lass, / As in autumn cold ra...»
«At my cheerless table / I a-musing sit: / How is one to be / In the world alone? / I, a stalwart youth, / Have no wife, no mate; / I, a stalwart youth, / Want a loving friend. / Want a harrow, share; / Want a kindly hearth; / Want a barn well-stocked, / And a good plo...»
«Pull, my gray one, pull now! / Turning o’er the black clods, / Mother-earth will burnish / White the iron ploughshare. / / Blushing dawn, the fair one, / Lo! on the bright horizon; / From the waking woodland / Comes the sun in glory. / / Joyous rolls the ploughland! / ...»
«When from thy shame, degrading, dark, I drew / Thy fallen spirit out with words of flame; / And thou, with wringing hands, in anguish deep, / Didst curse the sin that compassed thee about; / When thou didst lash thy conscience, late and dull, / With story of thy past, confessing all ...»