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.
«— She’s on the bottom, with the silt / And water-weeds... To sleep with them / She left,—but even there, finds no sleep! / — But I loved her / As forty thousand brothers / Could never love her! / — Hamlet! She’s on the botto...»
«Rock and rock me, starry boat! / My head is weary of breaking waves! For too long I’ve lost my moorings, — / My head is weary of thinking: Of hymns — of laurels — of heroes — of hydras, — / My head is weary of pretensions! Lay me out among grasses and pine-needles, — / My he...»
«How this matter came to an end / Neither love nor friendship can say. / With every passing day you reply less directly, / With every passing day you disappear more deeply. Until, you’re undisturbed by anything now, / — Only the tree riffles its branches — / As if you’ve fallen int...»
«Early yet — to no longer be! / Early yet — to no longer burn! / Tenderness! A brutal lash / Of Underworld encounters. However deep your inclination — / The sky — is a fathomless vat! / O, for such a love it’s / Early yet — to not feel wounded! Life is alive with jealousy! /...»