Nikolay Zabolotsky
- In this birch grove..., by Daniel Weissbort
- The Oriole, by Henri Henri
«A Psalter of Tsar' Aleksii, / Its pages — scarves, funeral groats, / Restless Russia / Wanders, wheezing, through decrees. The peasant jacket is torn, / The disgraced headscarf flaps . / Now a bench by' the door would be good, / And tales about Constantinople, Honey buns on the tabl...»
«I have forgotten what is in my hands: / A heart, a hat, or a cane? / In the gardens of the Lord / Grape bunches ripen. Ahead the cry: "don't," / Behind: "return." / All that is quiet is the path / Leading upwards. Shouldn't I follow it? / Maybe, if no sin is committed, / On the azu...»
«Upon the hard crest of a snow-drift / We tread, and grown quiet, we walk / On towards my house, white, enchanted; / Our mood is too tender for talk. And sweeter than music, this dream now / Come true, the low boughs of the firs / That sway as we brush them in passing, / The slight silve...»
«Ich will nur dass du in mich verliebst. / Nicht für Träume die sind wunderbar / Ich will wissen, dass dein Name ist / nur verbunden mit mir immerdar. Ist die Welt bei den Menschen verderbt / Dieses Leben ist dunkel und trist, / oh, versteh bitte mich, oh, versteh / dass mein Leben ein...»