A blue May. An eventide warmth.
The ring at the gate makes no sound.
Sticky smell wafts from the sagebrush.
The cherry tree sleeps in a white gown.
Through the wooden wings of the window,
The whimsical moon is weaving
The lace patterns of the fine curtains
And the window frames onto the floor.
Our living room might be small,
But it’s clean. I’m here at my leisure...
This night I’m enjoying my life
Like a pleasant thought of a friend.
The garden blazes like a frothy fire,
And the moon, straining all its powers,
Would like everyone to tremble
From the piercing word “darling.”
In this blossoming, in this smoothness,
Hearing the merry harmonica of May,
I’m the only one who wishes for nothing,
Who accepts everything as is.
I accept it — come and appear,
Everything that brings pain and relief...
Peace be with you, life that has rumbled by.
Peace be with you, light-blue chill.
Синий май. Заревая теплынь.
Не прозвякнет кольцо у калитки.
Липким запахом веет полынь.
Спит черемуха в белой накидке.
В деревянные крылья окна
Вместе с рамами в тонкие шторы
Вяжет взбалмошная луна
На полу кружевные узоры.
Наша горница хоть и мала,
Но чиста. Я с собой на досуге…
В этот вечер вся жизнь мне мила,
Как приятная память о друге.
Сад полышет, как пенный пожар,
И луна, напрягая все силы,
Хочет так, чтобы каждый дрожал
От щемящего слова «милый».
Только я в эту цветь, в эту гладь,
Под тальянку веселого мая,
Ничего не могу пожелать,
Все, как есть, без конца принимая.
Принимаю — приди и явись,
Все явись, в чем есть боль и отрада…
Мир тебе, отшумевшая жизнь.
Мир тебе, голубая прохлада.
«I'm fond of the old speech. / There's a charm in the ancient words. / Compared to the nowaday's one, it / could be much more sharp and modern. And to exclaim:"The half of empire for horse!" — / What's the irascibility and generosity! / But the futility of my last force / Will bless me...»
«Suspecting not yours, but a prompted reply, / A silent forbiddance I’ve read in your eye, / But still! O how more understandably speaks / This genuine and elegant blush of the cheeks. This call of the flowers that sweetly pervades, / This languid approach of the vespertine shades, / Thi...»
«Sensing that loved ones have told you, “Say no,” / I read in your eyes what your answer bespeaks, / But even more lucid are signals that show / On the telltale opulent blush of your cheeks, In the plaint of the flowers that languish and wilt, / In the solace of shade that has rushed in ...»
«Yes, right you are! Alone for outlines airy / I am so fine. / All velvet mine with all its twinkle merry— / Two wings of mine. O, never ask me, wherefrom I appear / Or whither flit! / Upon a flow’r I have alighted here / To breathe and sit. How long, without an effort, aim or worry...»