I
Gorged for a time with bloody slaughter,
Both servants and valorous hero are weary
And enter the dome of God’s dwelling.
Where candles glimmer at the Master’s feet,
And from the basilica’s walls, with gentle smiles,
Gaze the blissful faces of the Seraphim.
II
The weary executioner has dozed for an instant.
The hung victim’s frenzy grows.
A beaten body quivers on the rack,
No limit to these slow tortures is seen.
But there, above the earth, above this pitch darkness,
Soar the Seraphim with innocent smiles.
III
With a deep “in pace” lacking strength and will,
A nun beats against the stones of a grave.
The echo of heavenly songs is heard
In that cold pit, with rats and mold.
But beyond — with the organ’s roar, unseen in clouds of incense,
“Hosanna, Hosanna!” sing the Seraphim.
Резнею кровавой на время насытясь,
Устали и слуги, и доблестный витязь, —
И входят под своды обители Божьей,
Где теплятся свечи Господних подножий.
И с кроткой улыбкой со стен базилики
Глядят серафимов блаженные лики.
Палач, утомленный уснул на мгновенье,
Подвешенной жертвы растет исступленье.
На дыбе трепещет избитое тело.
Медлительным пыткам не видно предела.
А там, над землею, над тьмою кромешной,
Парят серафимы с улыбкой безгрешной.
В глубоком «in pace»*, без воли и силы
Монахиня бьется о камни могилы.
В холодную яму, где крысы и плесень,
Доносится отзвук божественных песен.
То с гулом органа, в куреньях незримых,
«Осанна! Осанна!» поют серафимы.
____
* In pace — букв. «в мире» (лат.) — тюрьма, каменный мешок.
«We were together, I recall... / The night was thrilled, the fiddle singing... / You were mine, my kindly soul, / The loveliest of all in being... / / Through murmur of the brook in peace, / Through the mysterious female giggle / The lips were longing for a kiss, / The heart for s...»
«I see the long forgotten blaze, / And I can clearly hear, in silence, / Another song behind the violins, / The chesty voice that filled the space. / / That's how she answered all my pledges, / My love and passion, first and last, / I recognize it when the blast / Of wind and bliz...»
«You and I are forlorn, I presume. / Let"s relax in this quiet room. / / In this corner, so warm and so bright, / Let us watch the October night. / / As before, there are lights outside. / Dear friend, we are old and retired. / / All is gone: hardship, blizzards and dread. / ...»
«My friend, you'll understand, of course! / Now at this hour of dejection / Like magic, firmly, desperation / Dismays me filling with remorse... / / Why is there so much depression / And pain in my contracted chest? / I don't need lights, and I confess / I'm tired of any congregat...»