The hot sultry summer
Comes dazzling by degrees.
The grass, scorched by the sun,
Is dressed in a moist vapor.
The burdock, yellowed by heat,
Unfolds its pink armour
And stands, choking with flies,
Beneath the tall windows of a hut.
In the bloom of nature
There's a brief moment of surfeit,
A time when the heads of plants
Let a pearl-white gum secrete.
Love's trappings have ebbed,
Passion has run dry, yet the past's flame
Dies in embers and wades in the blood,
Troubling not the body, but the brain.
But the flame fades towards midday,
And in the heaven's midst
Only nature, pausing,
Feels the patch of deadly heat.
Понемногу вступает в права
Ослепительно знойное лето.
Раскаленная солнцем трава
Испареньями влаги одета.
Пожелтевший от зноя лопух
Развернул розоватые латы
И стоит, задыхаясь от мух,
Под высокими окнами хаты.
Есть в расцвете природы моей
Кратковременный миг пресыщенья,
Час, когда перламутровый клей
Выделяют головки растенья.
Утомились орудья любви,
Страсть иссякла, но пламя былое
Дотлевает и бродит в крови,
Уж не тело, но ум беспокоя.
Но к полудню заснет и оно,
И в средине небесного свода
Лишь смертельного зноя пятно
Различит, замирая, природа.
«The sea — in a peace, long and lethal — / The movement — as if vaporized. / The sea — as if, made from cast metal, / A mirror of purified skies. The stones, in hardness of doze, / The shores, by repose enslaved, — / Dream of the daring and joyous, / Honey and sour wave.»
«Just a few names reach us from the kingdom of Chronos — / From the previous worlds — from the centuries that passed; / Like the Altair's beam, like a star, these few souls / Through the darkness of times shine forever to us. And they pass by, they pass by, they pass by — the years, / ...»
«There is some subtle, imperious connection / Between the flower's perfume and silhouette, / Such is the diamond's invisible perfection / Until the facets make it animate. So are the images of ever changing fancies, / That, like the clouds, in the heavens race, / Turned into stone, they ex...»
«Three apples — sagas' favorite selection, / Three symbols of rebellion on the earth, / In endless gardens of imagination, / They burn and shudder in illusions' breath. Oh, you, an apple — the first peoples' lure, / You took the Eden's light of those two, / You sent on heads of people...»