Pavillions spread over the square,
The maple leaves kiss the stars.
It's night — a celebration there,
Merriment and festivity in the park.
But when a pyrotechnist hurls
A silvery light from tree-tops to sky,
Poet, don't put your trust
In the night's fantastic bursts.
The rocket will fly off and die,
Its fiery sparks will grow dim...
But a poet's heart shines forever
In the pure depths of a poem.
Расступились на площади зданья,
Листья клена целуют звезду.
Нынче ночью - большое гулянье,
И веселье, и праздник в саду.
Но когда пиротехник из рощи
Бросит в небо серебряный свет,
Фантастическим выстрелам ночи
Не вполне доверяйся, поэт.
Улетит и погаснет ракета,
Потускнеют огней вороха...
Вечно светит лишь сердце поэта
В целомудренной бездне стиха.
«The eyes beg helplessly and dearly / For mercy. Can I ease their pain / As someone is uttering near me / His short and resounding name? I cross the field along the trail, / Where silver timber logs are piled. / Down here, the gentle gusts prevail / As in the springtime, fresh and wild. ...»
«A perfectly ripened trill, / The cackling of crushed ice, / Night, frosting a leaf, / A duel between nightingales. A sweet pea-vine grown wild, / God's tears upon a peapod, / Figaro from flutes and conductors' stands / Crashing down like hail on a flower bed. The crucial discovery of n...»
«I’d like to live with You / In a small town, / Where there are eternal twilights / And eternal bells. / And in a small village inn — / The faint chime / Of ancient clocks — like droplets of time. / And sometimes, in the evenings, from some garret — / A flute, / And the flau...»
«Already now the weary day / Has through the purple waves descended; / The cooling shades have fast extended; / The azure arch of heaven grows gray! / And solemn Night with peaceful pinions / Comas winging through her vast dominions, / And Hesper with his glittering star / Is hera...»