Ocean blue jersey and the eyes dark blue.
To my sweatheart, really, told I no truth.
She asked, "If the blizzard whirling outside?
It's time to make the bed now and the fire to light.
And I answered, "Darling, someone, from the hight,
Is sheding the white flowers to enjoy the sight.
Yes, you light the fire and you make the bed,
Without you my darling, my heart is snowy sad."
Голубая кофта. Синие глаза.
Никакой я правды милой не сказал.
Милая спросила: «Крутит ли метель?
Затопить бы печку, постелить постель».
Я ответил милой: «Нынче с высоты
Кто-то осыпает белые цветы.
Затопи ты печку, постели постель,
У меня на сердце без тебя метель».
«Not with "those" guys, nor with "these" guys, / From both equally aside, / Nowadays, all bring but disgust, / And by neither I abide. Folks I pity, to hate loyal, / Poison semi-lives with feud, / And God bless them, vile, annoying. / This humanity is crude. Do all conquests and invent...»
«I know a woman, full of silence, / Her bitter weariness from words, / Dwells in mysterious, blinking eyelids / Their widened pupils, secret worlds. / Her soul is greedily wide open / To copper music of sweet verse. / To life, that’s worldly, pleasant often, / She’s deaf and lofty, ...»
«Polite with life of hard modernity: / Between us two, there is a border, / As all, that makes life's proud grins guaranteed / Is my sole bliss, a cure from boredom. My triumph, glory, deeds, so wonderful — / Lost talk, today by fate embezzled, / Ring through my soul, like copper thunder...»
«Wakeful windows shine. / All night long, they’re lit. / Folks there might drink wine, / Or may simply sit. / Two may just hold hands / During warmth and winter: / In each house, my friend, / There is such a window. Neither wax nor lamps lit the dark away: / It's the eyes, awa...»