So many stars swarm in the frame
Right between the window sashes.
In the clear nights they flame
Like a writing, all gold flashes.
Through the window circle head
You discover, while recalling,
Polygons, triangles, squares
Of the world fiery drawing.
Так много звезд теснится в раме
Меж переплетами окна.
Они сверкают вечерами,
Как золотые письмена.
В оконном тесном полукруге,
Припоминая, узнаешь
Многоугольники и дуги —
Вселенной огненный чертеж.
«Whispers. Timid breathing. Trilling / Of a nightingale. / Heaving silver waters rilling / In the quiet vale. Night's dim light and shadows dreaming / Through the haze of space. / Moods like faery lante...»
«At daybreak there spread through the heavens / Pale clouds like a turreted town: / The cupolas golden, fantastic, / White roofs and white walls shining down. This citadel is my white city, / My city familiar and dear, / Above the dark earth as it slumbers, / Upon the pink sky buil...»
«Calm Nature's idle spy, I follow / In joy her pathways; free and fond, / I watch the arrow-winged swift swallow / Who curves above the dusking pond. It dashes forward, lightly skimming / The glassy surface, half in fear / Of alien clutching waters — dimming / The lightning wings...»
«Ophelia was singing as she perished, / And she sang while plaiting a wreath; / With flowers, the wreaths, and verses / She sunk down to the riverbed. So much in sad songs that is tempting, / Insinuates my soul toward dark depths. / So many are the feelings and songs, / The lacrimae and ...»