A hen began to count her chicks:
One, two, three,
Four, five, six,
Seven, eight,
Nine and ten —
A lot of worry for one hen!
Стала курица считать
Маленьких цыпляток:
Желтых пять
И черных пять,
А всего десяток.
«Wild wind batters / Window-panes, / And hinged shutters / Rudely strains. Hour of Mass on Easter mom, / Bells far distant, bells forlorn, / Deafness, darkness everywhere; / Only guest, a wind in scorn / Batters on the barrier. Through the window — void and black; / In the darknes...»
«O’er sleepy fields a vulture broods, / In circle upon circle sweeping. / Watching the meadow solitudes. / A mother in her hut is weeping: / “Take bread, my son, take breast, and grow; / Obey, take up thy cross, and go.” Centuries pass. Loud blares the war, / Rebellion rising, haml...»
«Those who were born in years of quiet / Recall not where their ways are set; / Children of Russia’s time of riot, / We are unable to forget. From years that bum us ashes settle.... / Are you all mad? does hope send news? / From days of freedom, days of battle / The gleam of blood on f...»
«I have forebodings of Thee. Time is going,— / I fear for all that in Thy face I see. The sky’s aflame, intolerably glowing; / Silent, I wait in love and agony. The sky’s aflame, draws near Thy apparition. / But it is strange. Thy look will change on Thee. And in me Thou dost wake a bo...»