He was born painlessly, in bless,
But we are born in awful torments,
Yet, even heavens will be stressed,
When heard the song that now floats.
Not a sweet voice, but fierce cries
Will cut the womb, so dark and heavy:
The sightless embryo denies
His coffin-like ways for behavior.
The Bible’s eastern star did not
Jet into skies in dazzling flare –
But its bright image was absorbed
By a transmuted look, forever.
Wake up, blest spirits, and arise!
We’re the reserved and bare heathens...
Pulling their hats over their eyes,
They go – the unknown wizards.
Без мук Младенец был рожден,
А мы рождаемся в мученьях,
Но дрогнет вещий небосклон,
Узнав о новых песнопеньях.
Не сладкий глас, а ярый крик
Прорежет темную утробу:
Слепой зародыш не привык,
Что путь его подобен гробу.
И не восточная звезда
Взвилась кровавым метеором,
Но впечатлелась навсегда
Она преображенным взором.
Что дремлешь, ворожейный дух?
Мы потаенны, сиры, наги...
Надвинув на глаза треух,
Бредут невиданные маги.
«There was only one flower there, / Aromatic and unraveled... / Zhukovsky I prefer the gorgeous freedom, / And I fly to lands of grace, / Where in wide and clear meadows / All is good, as dreams, and blest. / Here they rice: the clover clear, / And corn-flower's gentle lace, / And th...»
«I seek salvation. / My fires blaze on mountains’ far heights — / The realm of night is in a glare. / But brighter blaze my spiritual sight / And You’re afar — but are you real there? / I seek salvation. The starry choir sings solemnly in skies, / I’m cursed for good by ever...»
«I slow was losing my poor mind / By doors of her, with whom I’m crazy. / A day was followed by a night, / Just making my great thirst more blazing. And I was crying, tired with / My love, was deafening my moans; / And it was doubling in a mist — / The mad thought with its low goals...»
«It’s lifted up — this iron pole — / Over our cursed heads, And we / Are flying o’er the abyss, awful, / Through space where none can something see. But stronger are the winds, us bear, / And closer the sad end of race, / The more dazzling is and clearer / Seen the sweet shining ...»