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.
«Wait for me and I'll be back. / Just wait for me so much! / Wait for me when sky turns black / And golden rains remain in touch. Wait when snow falls great, / And when it's too hot, / When others are by a twist of fate / In yesterday forgot. Wait, when there's no news / From faraway ...»
«Wait for me, and I'll come back! / Wait with all you've got! / Wait, when dreary yellow rains / Tell you, you should not. / Wait when snow is falling fast, / Wait when summer's hot, / Wait when yesterdays are past, / Others are forgot. / Wait, when from that far-off place, / Letter...»
«Wait for me, and I'll return! / Wait with all your might! / Wait, when yellow foliage rains / Will tell you to stop. / Wait when snows are falling fast, / Wait through summer's heat, / Wait when yesterdays are past, / Others are forgotten all. / Wait, when from remote places, / ...»
«August – asters, / August – starlight, / August – bunches / Of ripe grapes and rusty rowan / Berries – August! With benev’lent, sound, befitting / Emperors, your apple regal, / Like a child, you’re playing, August. / Like a palm, your name smooths heartache, / Emperors b...»