Hopes, painted by the autumn cold, are shining;
My steady horse plods on as calm as Fate;
His dun Hp twitches moistly at the lining
Of my blown coat; he does not change his gait.
On a far road the unseen traces, leading
Neither to rest nor battle, lure and fade;
The golden heels of day will flash, receding,
And labors in the chest of years be laid.
Осенним холодом расцвечены надежды,
Бредет мой конь, как тихая судьба,
И ловит край махающей одежды
Его чуть мокрая буланая губа.
В дорогу дальнюю, ни к битве, ни к покою,
Влекут меня незримые следы,
Погаснет день, мелькнув пятой златою,
И в короб лет улягутся труды.
«Vast poignant sadness opened wide / Two sudden eyes, enormous, gleaming, / The flower vase awoke from dreaming, / Out splashing came the crystal tide. The room is soaked in sunny peace / Of lounging – what a luscious potion! / A kingdom of such small proportion / Has swallowed so ...»
«Upon the paling blue veneer / That is conceivable in mid-spring, / The birch-tree branches reappeared / And quietly settled into evening. The pattern was precise and fair, / A web unmoved and finely sewn, / A drawing done on porcelain ware, / With lines immaculately drawn, — A darl...»
«On the pale-blue enamel, / that April can bring, / birch branches’ imperceptible / sway, slipped towards evening. A network of finely etched lines, / is the pattern’s finished state, / the carefully-made design, / like that on a porcelain plate, the thoughtful artist set, / on th...»
«Freedom is a wondrous marvel / Sweet to crave in candlelight. / “Stay with me before you travel,” / Cried Devotion in the night, “You are crowned by me alone. / Hold your freedom in regard / As a law that’s carved in stone; / Heed it with a loving heart…” “As a law that...»