Am I dreaming, or really and truly
It was I, who in bed so unruly,
Laughed so loud for the first time one night
Not aware I was only a mite?
The days were too brief in duration,
And the longest seemed always too short —
My plans would be doomed to frustration,
Games unfinished and fights left unfought.
And I still go to bed under pressure,
In the calm of the night find no pleasure.
And in sleep I still see my worst foe
Just as three score and ten years ago.
Неужели я тот же самый,
Что, в постель не ложась упрямо,
Слышал первый свой громкий смех
И не знал, что я меньше всех.
И всегда-то мне дня было мало,
Даже в самые долгие дни,
Для всего, что меня занимало, —
Дружбы, драки, игры, беготни.
Да и нынче борюсь я с дремотой,
И ложусь до сих пор с неохотой,
И покою ночному не рад,
Как две трети столетья назад.
«In days of the created hell you / Will find a comfort by yourself. / Again in Russia do faith tell through / All troubles falsehood to reject. It’s easily to win my Russia / As it’s in those forgotten years, / When from a steppe to our far edge / Went horde by horde to us force with...»
«I'm not afraid of life. With its exciting sound / It gives to you to burn and to your thoughts to glow. / Disquiet but not thought grows in a manless mist, / And it is cold at nights for flowers crystal with. / But moments scattered are in unemployment mine, / When any touch to soul is pai...»
«All of men are choosing for themselves / Girl of dream, religion and own road, / And to serve to devil or (and) prophet / Every man is choosing for himself. All of men are choosing for themselves / Word for love as well as word for prayer, / Duel’ sword as well as sword for battle / E...»
«Eyelashes, eyelashes / Bowing down. / With the shame of eyelashes / Eclipsed — suns in the arrows' crown! / How clear and how loud! / And his cloak was red / And white was his stallion. Embarrassed is the rider, / Proud is the stallion. / On the dead serpent / The whitest stalli...»