Storms circle round the village,
And through anguished rain,
Flashes of lightning shatter
The sky once again.
It pours as from a flask,
And above assembled birches
A feast of electricity and rain
In fury and chaos merges.
But we walk along the road
Among the bushes and the grass,
With tridents, like Greek gods,
Held skyward in our grasp.
Вокруг села бродили грозы,
И часто, полные тоски,
Удары молнии сквозь слезы
Ломали небо на куски.
Хлестало, словно из баклаги,
И над собранием берез
Пир электричества и влаги
Сливался в яростный хаос.
А мы шагали по дороге
Среди кустарников и трав,
Как древнегреческие боги,
Трезубцы в облако подняв.
«The rain and the wind and the murk / Reign over cold desert of fall, / Here, life's interrupted till spring; / Till the spring, gardens barren and tall. / I'm alone in my house, it's dim / At the easel, and drafts through the rims. The other day, you came to me, / But I feel you a...»
«"She passed away, and was interred by Jacob / Beside the road..." And on the tomb, no sight / Of any name, inscription and no mark up. At nighttime, there’s a gleaming feeble light, / And whitewashed with chalk, the grave’s cupola / With enigmatic paleness is attired. I’m timidly app...»
«To E. K. Gertsyk When the love of flesh fades, / So goes the desire to create. / Your fingers don’t long to handle clay / Or chisel shadows into marble. Your song halts in mid-word, / The brush freezes in mid-stroke — / Surprise…how little they matter. / Farewell, farewell to you...»
«When forty rolls around / It’s too late to play with the muses / It’s too late to languish to music / To drink fiery potion / It’s time to quiet down / It’s time to raise grandchildren / It’s time to shorten your road / When forty rolls around. / / When forty rolls aroun...»