Nature is Rome, and is reflected there.
We see images of citizen's parades
Like in blue circus, in transparent air,
On forum of the fields and forest's collonades.
Nature is that same Rome, and once more
We do not need to worry Gods in guilt,
From animal entrails to divine of war,
To pray that slaves be quiet and stones be built.
Природа — тот же Рим и отразилась в нем.
Мы видим образы его гражданской мощи
В прозрачном воздухе, как в цирке голубом,
На форуме полей и в колоннаде рощи.
Природа — тот же Рим, и, кажется, опять
Нам незачем богов напрасно беспокоить, —
Есть внутренности жертв, чтоб о войне гадать,
Рабы, чтобы молчать, и камни, чтобы строить!
«There was painter once, / Owned a small home and his art. / But there’s an actress he loved, / Flowers were dear to her heart. So he sold his house on a whim — / His art and his roof, undeterred — / And spent all the money to buy / A whole sea of flowers for her. A million, milli...»
«In Rome at the New Year it is the custom to throw old things into the street. Rome rattles and shakes / like a runaway breakdown truck. / All over Rome and round about / the New Year’s coming in! Like Mills bombs, bottles / dropped from windowsills. / crash all over the place, / and ...»
«Motor-scooter roaring / past the sanatorium! Behind the handlebars / like Rublyov angels: loving riders. As in the fresco of the Annunciation / with its strident white tone / see their women scattering a shine / behind them, like wings on their spine! The splaying of their dress! / Tu...»
«Yesterday my doctor announced: / ‘Maybe you’re talented, who knows, / but even so your blow-pipe’s frozen, / keep out of the freezing weather.’ O nose! Inevitably as the hours, / my nose, the capuchins’ and yours / obeying / medicinal / ...»