Busy day turns into evening,
Glowing coal is lit.
City streets gusted with stifling,
Rowdy bodily heat.
Smooth as a song, off the ground,
Far away, out of sight
Counterforts pencil out
Into the lightways of night.
Into blue arches' embraces,
Into star diamond dust
Gray nets of hastening laces
Have been connected and cast.
Effortlessly in a whisper
Stone pile liftoff occurs...
Wings of the churches, you're sisters
Of springy wings of the birds!
Вечер за днём беспокойным.
Город, как уголь, зардел,
Веет прерывистым, знойным,
Рдяным дыханием тел.
Плавны, как пение хора,
Прочь от земли и огней
Высятся дуги собора
К светлым пространствам ночей.
В тверди сияюще-синей,
В звёздной алмазной пыли,
Нити стремительных линий
Серые сети сплели.
В горний простор без усилья
Взвились громады камней…
Птичьи упругие крылья —
Крылья у старых церквей!
«Now at last the blue-gray cover is / Ripped open-it certainly cannot / Always hang idly, and with a clang a / Cold net has lashed the asphalt city... Lashed and begun to swing... / Itself silvery bright, it has / Spilled on the brocades around like / Holy oil in a sacrilegist’s hand. ...»
«I am miserable. I can’t bear / It. I hear a blind man’s steps: / Above me all night long he / Stumbles about on the roof. And I do not know if these are / My tears that axe burning my / Heart, or are those which the / Blind man sheds without reply. Which flow from his dull eyes / ...»
«In impenetrable autumn, the fires are dimmed, / And cold splashes are flying; / In impenetrable autumn, the fires are dimmed. / They only gild the wheels’ tracks. In impenetrable autumn, the fires are dimmed, / But the poisoned fumes are dimmer; / I...»
«The shadow is consoling while it pours the / Buckthorn’s blood into the jasmine’s chlorosis... / But... the wind... the maples... the tree-tops’ / Noise with its reproach of an age-old remembrance... But... in the faded, ghostly / Moonlight the airy-black figure / Of plants, and you...»