Chase poems of the night away,
No need for preemies of the spirit:
Since night assists you at their birth,
And night is an atrocious midwife.
You madman! If you really do
Aspire to exalted singing,
Outstubborn, try to overcome
Your momentary excitation.
Know this: the chatter of the night
Will never ever sound like music
Until the lines can feel the coolness
Of day which brings all things to light.
Гони стихи ночные прочь,
Не надо недоносков духа:
Ведь их воспринимает ночь,
А ночь — плохая повитуха.
Безумец! Если ты и впрямь
Высокого возжаждал пенья,
Превозмоги, переупрямь
Свое минутное кипенье.
Пойми: ночная трескотня
Не станет музыкой, покуда
По строкам не пройдет остуда
Всеобнажающего дня.
«Why is this century worse than those others? / Maybe, because, in sadness and alarm, / It only touched the blackest of the ulcers, / But couldn't heal it in its span of time. Else, in the West, the earthly sun endows / The roofs of cities with the morning light, / But, here, the White alr...»
«You'll live, but I'll not; perhaps, / The final turn is that. / Oh, how strongly grabs us / The secret plot of fate. They differently shot us: / Each creature has its lot, / Each has its order, robust, — / A wolf is always shot. In freedom, wolves are grown, / But deal with them is...»
«You, who first stood before the source / With your smile, so deadly stoned! / How tortures us a look, you own, — / The heavy look of the night-birds. / But awful years will soon pass, / You’ll be again and young and careless, / And we’ll preserve the cold, mysterious, / Of minute...»
«And now, loading the camel's hump / With worldly troubles, heavy as a rock, / We leave — the camel's humble and plump — / To finish the 'unfinishable' work: In herds of camels — to enjoy a pool, / In Hell of sands — to see Blue Nile in thoughts, / As camel's lord and Lord insta...»