In the clear cold the dales grow blue and tremble;
The iron hoofs beat sharply, knock on knock.
The faded grasses in wide skirts assemble
Flung copper where the wind-blown willows rock,
From empty glens, a slender arch ascending,
Fog curls upon the air and mosswise grows,
While evening, low above the river bending,
In its white waters washes his blue toes.
В прозрачном холоде заголубели долы,
Отчетлив стук подкованных копыт,
Трава поблекшая в расстеленные полы
Сбирает медь с обветренных ракит.
С пустых лощин ползет дугою тощей
Сырой туман, курчаво свившись в мох,
И вечер, свецившись над речкою, полощет
Водою белой пальцы синих ног.
«The mysterious spring still lay under a spell, / the transparent wind stalked over the mountains, / and the deep lake kept being blue, — / a temple of the Baptist not made by hands. You were frightened by our first meeting, / but I already prayed for the second, and now / the evening is...»
«The mysterious spring still thrills, / A transparent breeze wanders the hills, / And the deep lake becomes bluer still — / The temple of the Baptist not built by human hands. You were frightened by our first meeting, / But I was already praying for a second one. / And again today the...»
«And I grew up in patterned tranquillity, / In the cool nursery of the young century. / And the voice of man was not dear to me, / But the voice of the wind I could understand. / But best of all the silver willow. / And obligingly, it lived / With me all my life; it's weeping branches...»
«You will think about her as about your first bride, / To the point of tears in your dreams. / We did not inhale her fragrance together, / And you did not bring her to me. She was brought to me / By that winged ruler of gods and muses, / When the peals of the first thunder / Glorified ou...»