by Stanislav Yakushevsky, 1975
Where dawn is sprinkling her red waters on
The cabbages and beets,
A little nuzzling maple reaches up
To suck its dam's green teats.
Там, где капустные грядки
Красной водой поливает восход,
Кленёночек маленький матке
Зелёное вымя сосет.
«"Did you love anything in this wide universe?" / "Weil, of course I did! Why do you make such a jest?", / "What?" "O, wait, let me think! There were perfume and flowers, / Also mirrors... and... I have forgotten the rest."»
«How nice to walk the quay at night! No fuss. / We stroll and we are silent, both of us. We see the Seine, a tree, and there’s the rising stone / Of a cathedral, and clouds... / We’ll postpone Our talking till tomorrow, ...»
«If your house means a thing to you / Where you first dreamed your Russian dreams / In your swinging cradle, afloat / Beneath the log ceiling beams. / If your house means a thing to you / With its stove, corners, walls and floors / Worn smooth by the footsteps of three / Generations of ...»
«Looks like physics is in honor, / Looks like poetry is not. / It’s not dry figures that matter; / Universal law, that’s what. It means that we failed in something. / Something, / which was ours to do! / It means that our cute iambics / Had weak wings a...»