Sergey Esenin
- Now the golden leaves have started spinning..., by Rupert Moreton
Sergei Jessenin (deutsch)
- Es drehte sich ein goldnes Blatt verhalten..., Eric Boerner
«One southern night I lay upon a haystack, / My face toward the firmament, / And the lively and harmonious choir / Shone and quavered all around. / / The Earth, mute as in a hazy dream, / Hurtled away into infinity, / And all alone like the first resident of paradise, / I looked nigh...»
«I awoke. Yes, the roof of a coffin — I extend / My arms forcefully and call / For help. Yes, I remember those torments / Before death — yes, it was real! — / And without effort, as if it was a cobweb / I split apart the coffin. / / And I stood up. How bright this winter light / ...»
«The voice of the herd rises from the fields; / In the bushes the robins sing, / And a sweet aroma flows / From the whitened apple-trees of the garden. / / The flowers gaze with tender melancholy, / Innocently pure, like spring, / Shedding fragrant dust, / The seeds of their rosy fru...»
«Mine was the madness he desired, he who had closed his eyes / To the petals of this rose, the sparkles, the dew; / Mine was the madness he desired, he who had wound / Those flowing tresses into a heavy braid. / / Though wicked old age denies all joy, / My lamenting soul, before this dec...»