A sail drifts white and on its own
Amid the light blue ocean haze.
What does it seek in distant country?
What made it leave its native bays?
The billows play. The winds are whistling
Down at the bending, creaking mast
Oh! This one seeks no happy ending
And does not flee a happy past.
Below, a brighter stream than azure.
Above, the golden sunray flows,
Yet this one, restive, quests for tempests
As if in tempests were repose.
Белеет парус одинокой
В тумане моря голубом!..
Что ищет он в стране далекой?
Что кинул он в краю родном?..
Играют волны — ветер свищет,
И мачта гнется и скрыпит...
Увы! он счастия не ищет,
И не от счастия бежит!
Под ним струя светлей лазури,
Над ним луч солнца золотой...
А он, мятежный, просит бури,
Как будто в бурях есть покой!
«Out of the fog two eyes burned / The mute blackness of the snow. / And the smoke remained in the / Air as a fountain’s hot gold. I know that a fiery dragon all / Coverуd in downy snow will now / On its riotous course break the / Sleep of the spellbound distance. And with it weary sl...»
«How cleanly the skies are extinguished. / With what delicate caprice / The distant forests recede to those / Heights we knew as azure... In your eyes there is no reproach: / Like a memory you meet the / Burning - out of sunset clouds / And the bluish-pink reflection. But I do not conqu...»
«On the blue paper, crudely, / Crudely blue, but in the / Most delicate net, the / Twigs were thrown apart, / Twig-cobwebs. And on the / Twigs was hoar frost, / Semi-precious hoar frost / Just like grains of / Sugar... On the blue / Paper the twigs were / Thrown apart, the tears /...»
«The sorrowful and tremulous din / Did not spread, and was stilled... / Over a silvery thicket are / A scarlet haze and dark ardor. And in the distance a clear / Drawing-the forest’s blue / Heights, like strokes traced / On copper with aqua fortis. The road is clear, but the destiny /...»