A human being, as much as he is grand,
Essentially, is just a thinking plant.
We are related to all trees and grass,
And their kinship can’t belittle us.
We're given from before our birth
The steadfastness of plants, their life force.
Человек — хоть будь он трижды гением —
Остается мыслящим растением.
С ним в родстве деревья и трава.
Не стыдитесь этого родства.
Вам даны до вашего рождения
Сила, стойкость, жизненность растения.
«The artist's work delineates / Dead faint of lilac shrub for us / He put, like crusts, upon the canvass / Reverberating sounds of paints / / He knows what oil is worth indeed: / Its summer, parched and under strain, / Warmed up with lilac tint of brain / Extended to the stuffy heat....»
«Insomnia. Homer. The sails — stretched out. / I’ve read the catalogue of ships halfway: / This lengthy brood, this train of cranes / That soared from Hellas up into the clouds. A wedge of cranes toward a foreign land — / The heads of kings sprayed by the godly foam — / What’s Tr...»
«Insomnia. Homer. The rows of stretched sails. / I’ve read the catalogue of ships just to the middle: / That endless caravan, that lengthy stream of cranes, / Which long ago rose up above the land of Hellas. It’s like a wedge of cranes towards the distant shores — / The foreheads of th...»
«I stare into the face of the frost, we remain — / It — nowhere bound, I — from nowhere, / And the breathing marvel of the spreading plain / Irons and weaves itself over and over. Meanwhile, the sun squints in starched poverty, / His squint is calm, no longer upset, / The ten-fold f...»