Eagles and butterflies (and some other things)
Still live. Let's leave them in peace.
And clouds. Don't disturb them either.
Let there be you and I, two umbrellas and the rain.
And if everything gets broken, there'll be nothing,
And people have broken so much inside.
Орлы и бабочки (и кое-что другое)
Еще живут. Оставим их в покое.
И облака. Их тоже не тревожь.
Пусть будут ты да я, два зонтика и дождь.
А если всё сломать, то ничего не будет,
И так уж многое внутри сломали люди.
«So many stones flew at me all times, / That no one of them now is feared. / Into the tower, peer to the highest ones, / Is changed a trap, before for me contrived. / I grateful to builders of high walls, / Let them be missed by sadness and by troubles. / From here I early see the scarlet...»
«It wasn’t at all that quite mysterious painter, / Which has well-pictured Hoffmann’s misty dreams, — / From that unknown and far spring, it seems, / I can observe a plantain in its flatter. And it was greening — our town, plain, / Trimming its steps, like some wings, wide and soari...»
«Thank you, God: I dream of him more seldom, / And don’t see him now in every place, / The white path with clouds has been laden, / Easy shadows o’er the waters raced. / And all day the chime of bells arose / O’er the ocean of the ploughed soil; / Here the toll is best-heard from Sa...»
«There are the words that couldn’t be twice said, / He, who said once, spent out all his senses. / Only two things have never their end — / The heavens’ blue and the Creator’s mercy.»