In the name of the word that, my dear,
Is best one and single for us,
Again fall in love with me here,
And tell me all this and — at once.
Beware! You could loose the right moment!
So, call for, not looking at past,
The proud and happiest load
Of my love’s unusual thrust.
You’ll never find fate more delicious,
Nor heights, deeper sunk in the blue,
Because it contains our last wishes —
The last air to breathe for us two.
Во имя лучшего слова,
одного с тобою у нас,
ты должен
влюбиться снова,
сказать мне об этом сейчас.
Смотри, ты упустишь время!
Тяжелой моей любви
счастливое, гордое бремя,
не медля, обратно зови.
Ты лучшей не сыщешь доли,
высот не найдешь других,
ибо в ней — последняя воля,
последний воздух Двоих.
«OK, Graylegs, time to set the plow / aside. Rainstorm lashes our faces. / Time to turn back to the barn, / to dinner, dreams, and darkness.»
«I swam across the Sudak Gulf, / I rode a wild horse. / I shouted: / "Russia has perished, is no more, / partitioned now like Poland!" / And people stared in horror. / I said: / "The heart of a modern Russian hangs like a bat." / And ...»
«The tangled wood was full of sound / the forest screamed, the forest groaned / with fear / to see the spear-man beast his spear. Why does hart's horn hang heavy / with the moving mark of love? / Arrow's flash of metal hits a haunch, / and reckons right. Now beast is broken to his knees...»
«I see them: Crab, Ram, Bull, / and all the world is only shell / whose pearl and opalescence / is my impotence. / A knock, a chirr, container of whistle and rustle, / and I realize then that waves and thought are kin. / Here, there, in milky ways, women rise / through darkness drunk on...»