Love neighbors as thyself, they say…
But me myself despise.
While yearning for ethereal,
I see my truths and lies.
And if I ever loved someone,
I only had in mind
To find the innocence of heart,
A ray of truth divine.
But after sobering from dreams,
In foreign souls I saw
The mirrored passions of my whims,
The stain of all my flaws,
My own lies, the shame of all my trials.
And while for all I equally bemoan,
I hate them all,
As I despise my own.
Любить других, как самого себя...
Но сам себя презреньем я караю.
Какой-то сон божественный любя,
В себе и ложь и правду презираю.
И если человека я любил,
То лишь в надежде смутной и чудесной
Найти в другом луч истины небесной,
Невинность сердца, мыслей чистых пыл.
Но каждый раз, очнувшись от мечтаний,
В чужой душе все глубже и ясней
Я прозревал клеймо своих страстей,
Свою же ложь, позор своих страданий.
И всех людей, равно за всех скорбя,
Я не люблю, как самого себя.
«There was only one game now lacking: / Pursed my lips and a whistle blew. / Foolish glory thus sent I packing, / Cause of scandal and foul mouthed too. Ach! how comical is the losing! / Life is full of this kind of loss. / Can’t deny if you are accusing – / Faith I had in that god o...»
«I have got but one only fun left: / Fingers mouthed, and a whistle of cheer. / An ill fame has swept o’er that I am / A vulgarian, a debauchee. Ah, how paltry, how trifling the waste is! / Trifling losses are plenty around. / Having had faith in God is shameful. / Having no faith is ...»
«Out-up is a crescent; down, a wind is blowing. / Settling poplar wool is silvery and glowing. Far ‘talianka* sobbing, solitary descant, / Is so sweetly homey and so sadly distant. Crafty runs now giggle, now burst out crying. / Where are you, my linden? Age ol' mine, where are you? Once, ...»
«The grove of golden trees has fallen silent, / Shorn of its gay leaves, in mute silhouette, / And so the cranes in sad file past it flying / Have no cause any more to feel regret. For whom, for what? We are all rovers, starting / Out, coming home awhile, then traveling on. / The hemp fiel...»