Children’s stories — are all I shall read;
Children’s fancies — are all I shall cherish;
All grown-up matters wither and perish;
Down, sadness, I’ll rise up and lead!
I am tired of living — to death.
No longer life’s beauties are welcomed.
But I love my misfortunate homeland
For I haven’t known anything else.
Только детские книги читать,
Только детские думы лелеять,
Все большое далеко развеять,
Из глубокой печали восстать.
Я от жизни смертельно устал,
Ничего от нее не приемлю,
Но люблю мою бедную землю
Оттого, что иной не видал.
Я качался в далеком саду
На простой деревянной качели,
И высокие темные ели
Вспоминаю в туманном бреду.
«I must he ill, of course. I’ve been shivering / for three days now like a horse before the races. / Even the haughty man who lives on my landing / has said as much to me: / Bella, you’re shaking! / / Please control yourself, this strange disease of yours / is rocking the walls, it...»
«1 All morning I’ve had this Rain around me. / Rudely, I kept on saying: Leave me alone! / So it drew back, but soon there it was again / as sad and loving as a little daughter. Rain. On my back. Stuck there like a wing. / I reproached it: Here, you / shameless, useless thing! / Think...»
«Your house, all without feeling of misfortune, / Has met me and has smacked me on my cheek. / As if a fish out from water, / Behind the glass looked a tea service. / A dog has leaped out to me, / As small jackdaw, and yelling, / Defenseless burs, all with thorn's heap, / Were sitting t...»
«Avenues so wretched, / snowbanks, bitter frost. / Desperate little urchins / with trays of cigarettes. / Wandering dirty avenues, / enjoying evil games – / all of them are pickpockets, / all are jolly thieves. / That bunch takes Nikitskaya, / this – Tverskaya Square. / They s...»