Guardian angel was watching,
In my room where fire glowed.
He kept eye over the lodging,
Where, in ailment, I abode.
Driven frail by the sickness,
From my fellows far away,
I would dream, and in sequence
Before me the visions lay.
I could see myself headed
From my birthplace as a tot,
In a cradle, thinly padded,
To a distant country brought.
Being settlers of Judea,
Trembling before Herod's horde,
In a little house here
We found shelter and accord.
Donkey grazed by the olea.
I found frolic in the sand.
Happy Joseph and Maria
Cared about what's at hand.
Often I would doze idly
In the shadow of the sphinx,
And the Nile's lens, brightly,
Mirrored the celestial blinks.
And inside I could hear it,
In the rainbow ablaze,
Playing panpipes to me were spirit-
Angel-children in the haze.
But when came the idea
To return from our retreat,
And before us lay Judea
Spreading sights under our feet-
Its intolerance and hatred,
Poverty and slaves' fright,
Where, above the slums, waited
Shadow of the crucified -
Suddenly I woke up, screaming...
By the bed light I could see,
Your angelic gaze was beaming,
Flowing gently towards me.
Ангел, дней моих хранитель,
С лампой в комнате сидел.
Он хранил мою обитель,
Где лежал я и болел.
Обессиленный недугом,
От товарищей вдали,
Я дремал. И друг за другом
Предо мной виденья шли.
Снилось мне, что я младенцем
В тонкой капсуле пелен
Иудейским поселенцем
В край далекий привезен.
Перед Иродовой бандой
Трепетали мы. Но тут
В белом домике с верандой
Обрели себе приют.
Ослик пасся близ оливы,
Я резвился на песке.
Мать с Иосифом, счастливы,
Хлопотали вдалеке.
Часто я в тени у сфинкса
Отдыхал, и светлый Нил,
Словно выпуклая линза,
Отражал лучи светил.
И в неясном этом свете,
В этом радужном огне
Духи, ангелы и дети
На свирелях пели мне.
Но когда пришла идея
Возвратиться нам домой
И простерла Иудея
Перед нами образ свой —
Нищету свою и злобу,
Нетерпимость, рабский страх,
Где ложилась на трущобу
Тень распятого в горах, —
Вскрикнул я и пробудился...
И у лампы близ огня
Взор твой ангельский светился,
Устремленный на меня.
«(The Overseas Ostrich) Here I come, / in feathers of stanzas, meter and rhyme, / an overseas ostrich, in sum, / is what I’m. / Trying, do I, my poor noggin to hide, / to deep under jangling of plumage abide. I’m not yours, you snow-smothered monstrosity! / Deep, burrow deep / int...»
«The year will come, a year pitch black for Holy Rus, / When crown from head of Romanovs will fall; / The rabble once in thrall to tsars will let sheer havoc loose, / To feed on blood and bloody death will be the lot of all. That year will see the time when law is brought to naught, / When g...»
«A year will come — for Russia a black year — / When the crown so many tsars have worn, will fall; / The mob will lose the love it had for them, / And multitudes will feed on blood and death. / The law, thrown over, will no longer shield / The little children and the chaste young wives;...»
«A year will come, the year of Russia, last, / When the monarchs' crown will be cast; / Mob will forget its former love and faith, / And food of many will be blood and death; / When the cast off law will not guard / A guiltless woman and a feeble child; / When the plague on bodies, sick ...»