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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