The capitals are rocked with thunder
Of orators in wordy feuds.
But in the depths of Russia, yonder,
An age-old awful silence broods.
Only the wind in wayside willows,
Coming and going, does not cease;
And corn-stalks touch in curving billows
The earth that cherishes and pillows,
Through endless fields of changeless peace.
В столицах шум, гремят витии,
Кипит словесная война,
А там, во глубине России, –
Там вековая тишина.
Лишь ветер не дает покою
Вершинам придорожных ив,
И выгибаются дугою,
Целуясь с матерью землею,
Колосья бесконечных нив...
«Before thee lies a broad new way. / Accept then my greeting, not loud, but hearty: / May thy bosom be, as it was, warmed / With love of thy fellow-man, with love of the eternal truth. Mayst thou not lose in the hard struggle with evil, / All of which at present thy soul is so full; / And ...»
«Inimitably lies life: / Above waiting, above a lie... / But by the trembling of all veins / You may recognize: Life! (Why that in rye you lie!) — heat, wave... / Like in the rye you lie: ringing, blue... / Blather — through honeysuckle — hundred veins... / Be joyful! I was calle...»
«Fifteen boys and maybe more, / or feuer than fifteen, maybe, / said to me / in frightened voices: / "Let's go to a movie or the Museum of Fine Arts." / "I haven't time." / Fifteen boys presented me with snowdrops. / Fifteen boys in broken voices / said to me: / "Ill never stop lovi...»
«For how long will you keep in hiding / Behind the fog, ye Russian star, / Or will you stay forever priding / In stark delusions, false, bizarre? / / Could it be true, your shining glory / Would scatter like a shooting star, / When faced with gazes, greedy, gory, / So keen to reach y...»