Who answered me in the forest grove?
Did an old oak whisper to a pine,
Or a mountain ash creak far away,
Or the okarina of a goldfinch sing,
Or a robin, my little pet,
Call suddenly at sunset?
Who answered me in the forest grove?
Did you remember
One spring, our past,
Our cares and troubles,
Our wanderings apart,
You, who singed my heart?
Who answered me in the forest grove?
Morning and evening, in cold and heat,
I still hear the faint echo,
The sigh of an unbounded love,
And my trembling poems
Straining towards you from my palms.
Кто мне откликнулся в чаще лесной?
Старый ли дуб зашептался с сосной,
Или вдали заскрипела рябина,
Или запела щегла окарина,
Или малиновка, маленький друг,
Мне на закате ответила вдруг?
Кто мне откликнулся в чаще лесной?
Ты ли, которая снова весной
Вспомнила наши прошедшие годы,
Наши заботы и наши невзгоды,
Наши скитанья в далеком краю, —
Ты, опалившая душу мою?
Кто мне откликнулся в чаще лесной?
Утром и вечером, в холод и зной,
Вечно мне слышится отзвук невнятный,
Словно дыханье любви необъятной,
Ради которой мой трепетный стих
Рвался к тебе из ладоней моих...
«You have gone. / Another world’s your / home, they say. / Into space… / You fly now / t’wards your stars’ collision. / Sober! / There, there’s no advance, no / beer as pay. / No, Yesenin, / this is / ...»
«You were my life sometime ago. / Then came the war, the devastation. / You vanished, leaving me alone, / Without a trace or explanation. When many years had passed me by, / Your voice awakened me by chance. / I sat and read Your Word all night / And came to life out of a trance. Since ...»
«The Tale of Tsar Saltan, of His Son, the Glorious and Mighty Knight Prince Guidon Saltonovich, and of the Fair Swan-Princess Three fair maidens, late one night, / Sat and spun by candlelight. / "Were our tsar to marry me," / Said the eldest of the three, / "I would cook and I would bake –...»
«I splashed some colours from a tumbler / and smeared the drab world with emotion. / I charted on a dish of jelly / the jutting cheekbones of the ocean. / Upon the scales of a tin salmon / I read the calls of lips yet mute. / And you, / could you have played a noc...»