Trinity devotions. Morning cannon rite,
Birch-trees in the grove are filled with ringing light.
Villagers are coming after festive sleep,
In the chimes of wind the heady spring will steep.
There are bands and branches on the window panes.
I will cry with flowers over grieves and pains.
Sing, you birds, lamenting, I will sing along,
We'll consign to dust my boyhood to this song.
Trinity devotions. Morning cannon rite,
Birch-trees in the grove are filled with ringing light.
Троицыно утро, утренний канон,
В роще по березкам белый перезвон.
Тянется деревня с праздничного сна,
В благовесте ветра хмельная весна.
На резных окошках ленты и кусты.
Я пойду к обедне плакать на цветы.
Пойте в чаще, птахи, я вам подпою,
Похороним вместе молодость мою.
Троицыно утро, утренний канон.
В роще по березкам белый перезвон.
«Far from the madding crowd and mirth / A young girl lived on the edge of the earth, / Fantasy breathing sweet as the air, / Of my fantasy unaware. There she lived on the edge of the earth, / That is the story, for what it’s worth... / Just too bad that the earth is round / And has no ...»
«To N. Aseyev* Night stands guard by blown-up bridges, / Horse has lost its way in mistiness. / Dying on the damp earth lies a laddie / Who for comfort could not care less. Warm caressing weather freezes quickly / On the laddie’s parched and lifeless lips / And the gleaming stars of 191...»
«Kakhovka*, Kakhovka, my rifle-companion, / A smouldering bullet discharge. / Irkutsk and Warszawa**, Oryol and Kakhovka — / The milestones of many a march. The lines were attacking and bullets rained heavy, / Machine guns were blasting away, / She came in her trenchcoat, through burning...»
«Oh, the nightingale sings in the graveyard, / Oh, the poplars hum over grave-mounds... / Who can tell us how many poor wretches, / Luckless orphans repose underground? I stand looking at somebody’s last home, / I’ve forgotten my dead happiness... / In the whole spacious world I have n...»