Even some of those who have at best
Five short minutes left to live — no more,
Toil and moil without a minute’s rest
As if they had some hundred years in store,
While snowy peaks, coeval with Creation,
In silence stern regarding petty Man,
Stand frozen still in mournful expectation
As if but five more minutes were their span.
Даже те, кому осталось, может,
Пять минут глядеть на белый свет,
Суетятся, лезут вон из кожи,
Словно жить еще им сотни лет.
А вдали в молчанье стовековом
Горы, глядя на шумливый люд,
Замерли, печальны и суровы,
Словно жить всего им пять минут.
Пер. Н. Гребнева
«Soon from swallows — into sorcerers! / Youth! We will say farewell before then... / We will stand in the wind soul to soul! / My tan one! My sister console! With a skirt of raspberry flare, / You my youth! My dove you are / Tan! Waste of my soul! / You my youth! Dance and console! Wa...»
«No awards, no forefathers, / Not a falcon clear. / She goes and is torn away — / She is so far! Underneath tan eyelids / A golden-winged flame. / Forgotten once she took it / With a windswept arm. An un-picked-up skirt, / A rag that went bare. / I'm not kind, not mean / But lik...»
«Without self-control / With complete meekness. / Light and soft is / Air over abyss. Growing at once, / Like lightning — in time, / As if by order / There will be a blossom. Answering stars, / With a snake hair... / Himself defenseless — / Not a flame-bearer! He to me? I to...»
«Thus swam the head and lyre down / To the receding far-off place. / And lips repeated: pity, pity, / And the lyre enounced: "Peace" Bloody-silver, silver-and-bloody / And double trace she did then pour, / My tender brother, my dear sister / Along the paralyzed Gebr. At times, the movem...»