Now dry thy eyes, and shed no tears.
In heaven's straw-pale meadows veers
Aquarius, and earthward peers,
His emptied vessel overturning.
No storming snows, no clouds that creep
Across the sheer pure emerald steep,
Whence, thinly-drawn, a ray darts deep
As a keen lance with edges burning.
Отри глаза и слез не лей:
С небесных, палевых полей
Уж глянул бледный Водолей,
Пустую урну проливая.
Ни снежных вьюг, ни тусклых туч.
С прозрачно-изумрудных круч
Протянут тонкий, яркий луч,
Как шпага остро-огневая.
«Here sways a tree: — Farewell! — / There a house calls out: — Stranger, stay! — / The road leads forth: — Mount me, walk / on my weathered skin, stomp me with your heel, / Don't trust these houses calling you to settle down. / Trust in the tree and trust in me. / ...»
«The forties, fateful, / warring, frontline, / with funeral notices, / clattering trains. / The hum of the rails. / All is cold, high and barren. / Their houses have burned — / they’re heading east. / That’s me at the station / in my scruffy wool cap. / The star’s not stan...»
«How bare the countryside! What dearth / How stark the hamlets’ desolation... / Long-suffering country of my birth, / poor homeland of the Russian nation. Never will the stranger’s gaze / look deeper to perceive or guess / what hidden light there is that plays / and shimmers through...»
«Oh don’t look back / at that ice / at that dark; / there, waiting greedily / for you is a look / that will demand an answer. I looked back today. And suddenly, / I saw him — alive and with living eyes, / looking at me out of the ice, / my ...»