Morning and evening, darkness and light —
Fishermen black and fishermen white.
The world’s like an ocean; like fishes are we,
Like fishes that swim in the depths of the sea.
The world’s like an ocean where fishermen wait,
Preparing their nets, their hooks and their bait.
How soon then, O Time, will you bring me to book
In the nets of the Night or on Day’s baited hook?
Утро и вечер, солнце и мрак —
Белый рыбак, черный рыбак.
В мире как в море; и кажется мне:
Мы, словно рыбы, плывем в глубине.
В мире как в море: не спят рыбаки,
Сети готовят и ладят крючки.
В сети ли ночи, на удочку дня
Скоро ли время поймает меня?
Пер. Н. Гребнева
«Before thee lies a broad new way. / Accept then my greeting, not loud, but hearty: / May thy bosom be, as it was, warmed / With love of thy fellow-man, with love of the eternal truth. Mayst thou not lose in the hard struggle with evil, / All of which at present thy soul is so full; / And ...»
«Inimitably lies life: / Above waiting, above a lie... / But by the trembling of all veins / You may recognize: Life! (Why that in rye you lie!) — heat, wave... / Like in the rye you lie: ringing, blue... / Blather — through honeysuckle — hundred veins... / Be joyful! I was calle...»
«Fifteen boys and maybe more, / or feuer than fifteen, maybe, / said to me / in frightened voices: / "Let's go to a movie or the Museum of Fine Arts." / "I haven't time." / Fifteen boys presented me with snowdrops. / Fifteen boys in broken voices / said to me: / "Ill never stop lovi...»
«For how long will you keep in hiding / Behind the fog, ye Russian star, / Or will you stay forever priding / In stark delusions, false, bizarre? / / Could it be true, your shining glory / Would scatter like a shooting star, / When faced with gazes, greedy, gory, / So keen to reach y...»