Snowy plain, white moon.
Our land is draped in a shroud.
Dressed in white, the birches cry in the woods.
Who perished here? Who died? Could it be me?
Снежная равнина, белая луна,
Саваном покрыта наша сторона.
И берёзы в белом плачут по лесам.
Кто погиб здесь? Умер? Уж не я ли сам?
«I like it that your heart aches not for me, / That not for you my heart is sweetly aching. / And that the slow planet underneath / Our feet shall never slip away while turning. / I like it that I can be unabashed And frivolous, and pay no mind to wording, / And not to drown in the waves o...»
«You — unforgettable — are so forgetful! / You look like a smile of yours when graced upon me. / Should I say more — more handsome than golden dawning! / Should I say more — unique in all creation! / By Love you’re held a prisoner of passion! / As fair as by Chellini sculptured...»
«Two suns cool down — God Almighty, put it to rest! — / One — in the skies, the other — inside my chest. Two of these suns have — can I forgive myself? — / Two of these suns have been driving me mad, insane. Both — cooling down now — no harm comes from this sunburst. / T...»
«Commandments did not uphold, nor received the Eucharist, / Looks like, until over me they sing the requiem, / I’m gonna sin — as I’m sinning — as I’ve sinned — with an outburst / Of passion! With all God given senses — all five of them! Friends! Accomplices! You, whose incite...»