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!
«On the pale-blue enamel, / that April can bring, / birch branches’ imperceptible / sway, slipped towards evening. A network of finely etched lines, / is the pattern’s finished state, / the carefully-made design, / like that on a porcelain plate, the thoughtful artist set, / on th...»
«Freedom is a wondrous marvel / Sweet to crave in candlelight. / “Stay with me before you travel,” / Cried Devotion in the night, “You are crowned by me alone. / Hold your freedom in regard / As a law that’s carved in stone; / Heed it with a loving heart…” “As a law that...»
«Your vague image, frail and born in ache, / In the fog I could not sense by touch. / “God!” my tongue let out, though by mistake, / For I did not mean to say that much. So God’s name, much like a wide-winged bird, / From my chest took on its feathered flight. / Up ahead of it, dense...»
«My quiet dream, by every minute granted – / A ghostly wood where magic spell is cast; / Like silky curtains, airy and enchanted, / Some iffy rustle moves there, flying fast; In cloudy arguments and crazy meetings, / At the crossroads of eyes astonished wide, / A noise unclear, invisib...»