Somewhere in a field near Magadan,
Despairing and fearing for their life,
Through the swirling, freezing mists
They trudge behind the sledges.
From the soldiers’ iron roar,
From the preying gang of thieves,
Only the first aid post can save them here,
Or being sent for flour into town.
Two sad old Russian men, they walked
Huddling in their pea jackets,
Remembering their village huts
Far away, and longing for them.
They’d no heart left,
Far from friends and family,
And weariness that had bent their backs,
Tonight bit deep into their souls.
Life unwound above them,
Clothed in the forms of nature.
But the stars, those symbols of freedom,
No longer gazed on men.
The wonderful mystery of the universe
Filled the theater of the northern stars,
But its penetrating flame was powerless
Any more to reach into men’s hearts.
The blizzard howled, burying
The frozen stumps of trees
And, seated on them, the two old men,
Not looking at each other, froze.
The horses stood, the work was over,
They were done with mortal affairs.
A sweet drowsiness lulled them
And led them sobbing, into distant parts.
They were beyond the call of guards,
The convoy would never reach them now.
Only the stars of Magadan
Sparkled, rising overhead.
Где-то в поле возле Магадана,
Посреди опасностей и бед,
В испареньях мёрзлого тумана
Шли они за розвальнями вслед.
От солдат, от их лужёных глоток,
От бандитов шайки воровской
Здесь спасали только околодок
Да наряды в город за мукой.
Вот они и шли в своих бушлатах –
Два несчастных русских старика,
Вспоминая о родимых хатах
И томясь о них издалека.
Вся душа у них перегорела
Вдалеке от близких и родных,
И усталость, сгорбившая тело,
В эту ночь снедала души их,
Жизнь над ними в образах природы
Чередою двигалась своей.
Только звёзды, символы свободы,
Не смотрели больше на людей.
Дивная мистерия вселенной
Шла в театре северных светил,
Но огонь её проникновенный
До людей уже не доходил.
Вкруг людей посвистывала вьюга,
Заметая мёрзлые пеньки.
И на них, не глядя друг на друга,
Замерзая, сели старики.
Стали кони, кончилась работа,
Смертные доделались дела...
Обняла их сладкая дремота,
В дальний край, рыдая, повела.
Не нагонит больше их охрана,
Не настигнет лагерный конвой,
Лишь одни созвездья Магадана
Засверкают, став над головой.
«She sings — and notes’ evaporation / Are kisses, pressed to lips’ surprise, / She looks — and heavens’ gay flirtation / Divinely glimmers in her eyes; And all the play of her procession, / Her features when she speaks a word / Are full of feeling and expression, / By wondrous...»
«Why do you slip the haze’s capture, / O silver moon, so all alone; / Why is your dim glow’s flicker thrown / Upon my pillows’ downy rapture? / For by your gloomy presence here / You waken all my doleful dreaming, / The pointless trials of love, the teeming / Desires I’d hoped w...»
«And here again, as dusk now spreads, / Aloft and free in sky’s expanses / The birds’ formation sea-bound threads, / An arrow’s shade, its chain advances. The dusk is limpid, steppe is hushed, / The reddening sunset now is blazing… / The sky by mute formation’s brushed, / Birds...»
«Of the cuckoo asked I boldly, / To discover when I’d die... / Pine trees’ tips were trembling coldly. / Yellow beam on grass did lie. / From the thicket there’s no answer... / I am bound for home, / Chilly breeze plays like a dancer / On my hot brow’s dome.»