There is no better blossom,
Then the apple-tree in spring.
There is no better moment,
When my darling coming in.
When I see him, when I hear him,
Then the everything is whirled.
All my soul is on fire,
All my soul sings a song.
We would look in eyes each other,
And the hot hands bind along.
And together we are walking
Unawared where for...
And around apples blossoming,
They're white throughout May.
And the shining moon in starry sky
Could permit the needle find.
We're wandering along the foothpath,
Where grass is never razed.
And from heart the words are flowing,
Which you never could forget.
By the river the accordeon
Playing silent first, then loud.
There is no better moment,
When my darling simply come.
There is no better blossom,
Then the apple-tree in spring.
There is no better moment,
When my darling coming in.
When I see him, when I hear him,
Then the everything is whirled.
All my soul is on fire,
All my soul sings a song.
Лучше нету того цвету,
Когда яблоня цветет,
Лучше нету той минуты,
Когда милая придет.
Как увижу, как услышу —
Все во мне заговорит,
Вся душа моя пылает,
Вся душа моя горит.
Мы в глаза друг другу глянем,
Руки жаркие сплетем,
И куда — не знаем сами —
Словно пьяные, бредем.
Мы бредем по тем дорожкам,
Где зеленая трава,
Где из сердца сами рвутся
Незабвенные слова.
А кругом сады белеют,
А в садах бушует май,
И такой на небе месяц —
Хоть иголки подбирай.
За рекой гармонь играет —
То зальется, то замрет...
Лучше нету того цвету,
Когда яблоня цветет.
«She came up. I did not show my worry, / Calmly looking outside the windows. / She sat down, like ceramic idol / In a long-ago-chosen pose. To be happy — is well-accustomed, / But attentive — is harder just might. / Or the dark shadow has been overpowered / After many a jasmine Marc...»
«There is a God, yes, but He left the room / before the vote. He didn't say He'd do / a thing like that, but did it anyhow, / and simply turned our spirits upside down. / Without God, you can't cope, but He'll ignore / our queries such as "why?", "whatever for?" / and "what comes next?", ...»
«Two girls were tossing dahlias while passing. / They tossed them sparingly upon the lane. / The women shook their heads and said with sadness: / "Bouquets are pricey now — it's such a shame..." / / The street looked on with hungry discomposure. / They watched the little girls who led ...»
«Such days may meet you just before the springtime: / Beneath the snow the meadow lies in peace; / The treetops wobble with a dainty rhythm; / Benevolent and balmy is the breeze. / And you can feel the lightness in your body, / And you do not quite recognize your home, / And eagerly you f...»