«Octets»
I.
I love the uprise of a texture,
To see after two, three or some
Air gasps, when there will be a gesture,
And deep straightening breath then will come.
5 And space, like a child, half awoken
Chalks arcs with the sail of the yacht, —
The shapes so untied and unbroken, —
And plays, never knowing its cot.
«Восьмистишия»
I.
Люблю появление ткани,
Когда после двух или трех,
А то четырех задыханий
Придет выпрямительный вздох —
И дугами парусных гонок
Открытые формы чертя,
Играет пространство спросонок —
Не знавшее люльки дитя.
«I shut Homer and sat by the bay window glass. / On my lips the last word of the Iliad fluttered. / The night watchman’s long shadow unhurriedly passed, / And above something — lamplight or moonlight — bright sputtered. So, so often I’d throw down challenging looks / And I met in rep...»
«No, I can’t ever forget / your child’s mouth, your girl’s glance, / bold — I dream of you, / I speak, I think of you — always — like rhythm. I feel vast oceans / heaving as the moon yaws, / and whole galaxies, burning, / swinging as they have always swung, will always swing....»
«Being drawn into earthly passions, / I vision as from gloom to light / Once, dressed in black, Dark Angel rushes / To cry: "Salvation is a lie!" Yet, unassuming and lighthearted, / Delightful as a noble deed, / Comes angel from the white department / To add that hope is true indeed.»
«To Vl. Motyl As a child, I was convinced / that from all conditions / Potion of the Danish Prince / is the most efficient. / And that faith is burning since / brighter every year... / Potion of the Danish Prince / Savor, cavalier! Potion of this Prince or King / is as sweet as cand...»