The river quietly dreams.
Dark forest stands still.
Crake doesn’t scream.
And nightingales don’t trill.
It’s a night of silence.
The rill hardly makes a sound,
While moon’s brilliance
Silvers everything around.
Silver shines the river.
Silver shines the rill.
Silver shines and shivers
Dewy grass on the hill.
Night. Just silence.
All nature sleeps, safe and sound,
While moon’s brilliance
Silvers everything around.
Тихо дремлет река.
Тёмный бор не шумит.
Соловей не поёт
И дергач не кричит.
Ночь. Вокруг тишина.
Ручеёк лишь журчит.
Своим блеском луна
Всё вокруг серебрит.
Серебрится река.
Серебрится ручей.
Серебрится трава
Орошённых степей.
Ночь. Вокруг тишина.
В природе все спит.
Своим блеском луна
Всё вокруг серебрит.
«Happy New Year, swan demesne! / Ruins so glorious! / Happy New Year — in foreign lands — / Knapsack-bearing warriors! Red pursuit, mouth foaming, / Not caught up, will dance, / Happy New Year — homeland, / Beaten in the race! The whole Earth sings with a toast song / To the ...»
«1 To be your light-haired little fellow — / Oh, through all years! — / To drape a student behind your dusty purple / In cloak severe. To catch through people's density your sigh / That life does give / With soul that lives with your breath, like a cloak / With blowing wind. More...»
«2 There is an hour — just like discarded clothes: / When in ourselves the pride we quench in full. / The hour of study, it in every life is / Triumphant-unavoidable. The high hour, when, before the feet of one with finger / Appointed, our weapons laying down, / We change the purple of...»
«3 Evening sun is kinder than / Sun at noon. / Screams fanatically, not warms / Sun at noon. Meeker, more aloof is the sun / At night. Wise, / It does not want to beat / In our eyes. Stirring with its simplicity / Made for kings, / Dearer is evening sun / To one who sings. * * ...»