Of hunchbacked Tiflis I am dreaming
Sazandar coils and moans
On bridge with people teeming
Capital carpet-gleaming
As Kura runs below.
Restaurant from Caucasus
Where pilaf and wine abound,
A blushing waitress in her youth
Is now ready to serve you
Having served the table round.
Thick Cahetian red wine
It is sweet downstairs to drink
There it's cold, there divine
Drink in pleasure, drink two times:
You don't need alone to drink.
In the tiniests of flasks
You will find a man in bliss
Teliani if you will ask
You will float on a flask,
And in fog will float Tiflis.
Мне Тифлис горбатый снится,
Сазандарей стон звенит,
На мосту народ толпится,
Вся ковровая столица,
А внизу Кура шумит.
Над Курою есть духаны,
Где вино и милый плов,
И духанщик там румяный
Подает гостям стаканы
И служить тебе готов.
Кахетинское густое
Хорошо в подвале пить, —
Там в прохладе, там в покое
Пейте вдоволь, пейте двое,
Одному не надо пить!
В самом маленьком духане
Ты обманщика найдешь,
Если спросишь «Телиани»,
Поплывет Тифлис в тумане,
Ты в бутылке поплывешь.
Человек бывает старым,
А барашек молодым,
И под месяцем поджарым
С розоватым винным паром
Полетит шашлычный дым...
«Night, streets, the lantern, the drugstore, / The meaningless and dusky light. / A quarter of the century more — / All fall the same into your sight! You died — as it was before — / You have the former way to start: / The streets, the lantern, the drugstore, / Swell of the canal ...»
«The river stretched. It flows, idly grieves, / And washes both banks. / In steppe, above light clay of cliffs / Rinks mourn in ranks. O Russia! Dear wife! With clearness and pain / We see the lengthy way! / It sent an arrow of ancient Tartar reign — / In breast it lay. The way throug...»
«Your sweetheart forever leaving, / Friend, you swear me to love!.. / And in lands of boring living / To preserve the pledge above!.. Outside our Denmark, happy, / Your dark shores lay in grief... / And the tide, enraged and gabby, / Washes tears on a reef... Dressed not in the silk ...»
«Don't call. Without any summons / I'll reach the shrine. / And droop my head in even silence / To your feet fine. I will your orders shyly listen / And will remain / To catch our meetings, short and instant, / And wish again. I fell before your passions' power, / Before its wave, / ...»