The dull air is moist and resounding;
In the forest it is good and no danger.
Once again I will bear obediently
My light cross of solitary walks.
And once again a reproach to my heartless fatherland
Will fly up like a wild duck,
It is a gloomy life I take part in
Where every single one is alone!
A shot has rung out. Now over the drowsy lake
The ducks' wings are heavy.
And the pine trunks are stupefied
By their double, reflected existence.
The sky, dull with a strange shine...
A worldwide, misty pain...
Oh, let me also be misty in this way,
And let me not to love you.
Воздух пасмурный влажен и гулок;
Хорошо и не страшно в лесу.
Легкий крест одиноких прогулок
Я покорно опять понесу.
И опять к равнодушной отчизне
Дикой уткой взовьется упрек, —
Я участвую в сумрачной жизни,
Где один к одному одинок!
Выстрел грянул. Над озером сонным
Крылья уток теперь тяжелы.
И двойным бытием отраженным
Одурманены сосен стволы.
Небо тусклое с отсветом странным —
Мировая туманная боль —
О, позволь мне быть также туманным
И тебя не любить мне позволь.
«The music of the soul is ever fainter, / the music of the attack is ever more resonant. / But don’t hasten (to comment) on that: / so as not to be deceived in the darkness, / that the music of the attack is more resonant, / and the music of the soul ever fainter. / / the louder is t...»
«No matter how they insulted our courtyard, it’s in a classic period. / No way of coping with it now even though it’s been disarmed. / There’s Volodya in the courtyard / with his silver strings, / his golden fingers, his voice is needed. No matter how they fought against the guitar, th...»
«The Roman empire in its period of decline / retained the appearance of firm order. / The chief was in place, his comrades-in-arms by his side, / life was fine, judging by the reports. / / But critics will say that the word “comrades-in-arms” isn’t a Roman item, / that this mistake...»
«The poet has no rivals / either on the street or in his destiny. / And when he cries out lo the whole world, / it’s not about you, but about himself. / / He raises his delicate hands op lo heaven, / expending his life and powers drop by drop. / Burning out, he asks for forgiveness, ...»