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.
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«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...»
«Deep silence in the sky; / The moon mysteriously / Through filmy haze is sinking; / The Star of Love is winking / Above the darkling hill, / And in the abyss so still / Things formless, fascinating, / Come flying, animating / The silence of the night, — / They bring the Spring’...»