In those days the first words
Were heard in infantile melody,
Jehovah’s youthful anger roared
Above the world like spring thunder,
And the cedars learned to cast their shade,
And Eve — she had only just fallen,
And her depths boiled with seed,
And the world was God, and God was passion.
He wore it out with His jealousy,
Pouring fire straight into the blood…
Israel, can you really have drunk up
All of the Lord’s first love?
В те дни младенческим напевом
Звучали первые слова,
Как гром весенний, юным гневом
Гремел над миром Егова,
И тень бросать учились кедры,
И Ева — лишь успела пасть,
И семенем кипели недра,
И мир был — Бог, и Бог — был страсть.
Своею ревностью измаял,
Огнем вливался прямо в кровь...
Ужель ты выпил всю, Израиль,
Господню первую любовь?
«I must perform my smoky rite. / Disgraced before me lie prostrate / Fruits of a summer by the sea: / A sard’s twin-hearted strawberry / And the ant’s brother, an agate. But I prefer the rank-and-file / Soldier of the sea gulf, gray, wild, / That no one’s pleased to see.»
«The memory of sun weakens in my heart, / grass turns yellow, / wind blows the early flakes of snow / lightly, lightly. / / Already the narrow canals have stopped flowing; / water freezes. / Nothing will ever happen here — / not ever! / / Against the empty sky the willow opens...»
«When my mother dear sent me / Off to the army, / Then my kinfolk also came, / Came a-running: "Where are you going to, my lad? / Where you going? / Vanya, Vanya, please don't go / Into the army! "The Red Army has enough / Bayonets. / The Bolshevik...»
«(A narrative poem) Tra - ta - ta - turn! / Tra - ta - ta - turn! / Marching, marching, marching, marching, / Into chains of iron the links are forming, / In a thundering step they go grimly on, / go grimly on, / go on, / go on / To the last, the main redoubt. Main Street is frantic...»