As the first signs of winter
Hover above the Neva's expanse,
We compare the scattered leaves
Along its banks to summer's radiance.
But I admire these old poplars
Whose branches refuse to shed
Their dry and rusty armor
Till winter's first storms ahead.
How to describe our similarity?
Like the poplar I'm growing old,
And I too should meet, in my armor,
Winter's coming, its mortal cold.
При первом наступлении зимы,
Блуждая над просторною Невою,
Сиянье лета сравниваем мы
С разбросанной по берегу листвою.
Но я любитель старых тополей,
Которые до первой зимней вьюги
Пытаются не сбрасывать с ветвей
Своей сухой заржавленной кольчуги.
Как между нами сходство описать?
И я, подобно тополю, не молод,
И мне бы нужно в панцире встречать
Приход зимы, ее смертельный холод.
«Pencil’s wish is plainly accurate: / All it wants to know is truth. / Truth, eternal and immaculate, / Is the calling it pursues, Built as if to function lastingly, / Helped by neither drug nor graft, / Proper as a gent, and masterly / As an expert in one's craft. Profit’s hand wil...»
«While braggarts walk the earth — I say it’s great, / We should be thanking heavens for our fate. / The skies are blue, the clouds are swirling! / We are no advocates of burgling. / To get a braggart use no knife: / But give his bragging a high-five — / And you possess his life. Wh...»
«I store an image in my soul, the portrait of a fair lady. / Her eyes are turned upon some other, better days. / No one’s dispensable in there, and years are careless of the fading, / And long ago, they cleared each other’s guilty ways. Today, the honorable choir’s still glorifying her ...»
«I built a castle of hope. I built and built it. / Kneaded some clay. Then carried cold boulders away. / And for help didn’t pray. / That’s how is will be: / It’s hope that will matter — strength might come on the way. And time went by. Seasons changed every...»