Supper sky fell in love with a bulwark
All is slashed with pink scars of light threads —
Having fallen upon it was thrown back
And transformed into thirteen odd heads.
There you are, my nighty-night heaven,
Like a young boy I’m here to face you —
Chills run down my back, eyes are straining
Catching trebuchet stones as they flew.
And with every new strike of the siege ram
In the sky falling stars lose their eyes —
Same old supper adorned with new lesions,
Murky fresco's unfinished surmise.
Небо вечери в стену влюбилось, —
Все изрублено светом рубцов —
Провалилось в нее, осветилось,
Превратилось в тринадцать голов.
Вот оно — мое небо ночное,
Пред которым как мальчик стою:
Холодеет спина, очи ноют.
Стенобитную твердь я ловлю —
И под каждым ударом тарана
Осыпаются звезды без глав:
Той же росписи новые раны —
Неоконченной вечности мгла...
«You were the fairest of all, no denying, / Please, don"t curse me and, pray, don't disgrace! / My train, like the song of a gipsy, is flying, / Like those irrevocable days... / / What I loved is gone by, disappeared... / Up ahead is a hidden way... / Unforgettable, blessed and rever...»
«The way she did before, she wanted / To breathe her life into my heart, / Into my body, all exhausted, / Into my chilly habitat. / / She came along like welkin, / I couldn't rise from bed to go, / Nor could I stir my arm to welcome / And tell her I had missed her so!... / / I ...»
«to S. Solovyov Obscure daily shadows run about. / The sound of the bells is clear and high. / The stairs of the church are shining out, / Alive, they're waiting for you to come by. / / As you step in you'll touch a boulder, faintly, / Clad in the gruesome virtue of the past, / ...»
«We were together, I recall... / The night was thrilled, the fiddle singing... / You were mine, my kindly soul, / The loveliest of all in being... / / Through murmur of the brook in peace, / Through the mysterious female giggle / The lips were longing for a kiss, / The heart for s...»