Blue is the night, and the moon is glancing,
There was a time, I was young and handsome.
So irretrievable and so persistent
All has gone by...all is past ...and distant...
Cold is my heart and so dim is my sight...
Blue is my happiness! Moonlit the night!
Вечером синим, вечером лунным
Был я когда-то красивым и юным.
Неудержимо, неповторимо
Все пролетело… далече… мимо…
Сердце остыло, и выцвели очи…
Синее счастье! Лунные ночи!
«Based on pure chance, a useless gift, / A life — why was it given to me? / And why did furtive fate so swift / My life to end in death decree? What power hostile in intent / Called me from Lethe’s mephitism, / Made my soul's essence passion-bent, / But roiled my mind with skeptici...»
«They run like a throng of gypsies, / chasing after the long-fingered Paganini, / one with a Czech sneeze, another with a Polish dance, / and still another with a Hungarian refrain. Comfort me with your playing, / proud little prodigy / whose sound is broad as the Yenisey, / little Polis...»
«They swoon for long-clawed Paganini, / Like gypsy mobs they swarm and prance, / A Czech is sneezing sneezes, and a Pole is balling squeezes, / And a Magyar’s in a rowdy sort of whackadoodle dance. / / Hey, girl, yeah you, proud parvenu, / Whose sound is broad like Yenisei, / Consu...»
«Petals of wide-parted, childlike-moist lips, / Now gone to numbness and pursed full of chill, / While the ballroom floats on, and its sounds ever spill / Over long grievous longings that raptures eclipse. The mirrors in undulance, chandeliers’ gleam / Meld to form crystalline ghostly mira...»