Not for safe-keeping for awhile, –
For the altar, not donation, –
For the fire, the fire, its oblation
Rapt Israel brought in times gone by!
And pleasing to Jehovah’s nostrils
Was smoke from sacrificial fires,
Because a consecrated offering
In truth, can not be taken back…
You, pastors of the flocks of Christ,
Merchants with a priestly ranking!
What is your gift? A simple price:
Deposit and withdrawal banking!
And Israel, your ancient torch
Shall shine above the world again,
The cross atop the church is stained
And God is clearly not within!
Не на храненье до поры, —
На жертвенник, а не в копилку, —
В огонь, в огонь Израиль пылкий
Издревле нес свои дары!
И дымный жертвенный пожар
Ноздрям Господним был приятен,
Затем, что посвященный дар
Поистине был безвозвратен...
Вы, пастыри Христовых стад,
Купцы с апостольской осанкой!
Что ваша жертва? Только вклад:
Внесли и вынули из банка!
И оттого твой древний свет
Над миром всходит вновь, Израиль,
Что крест над церковью истаял
И в этой церкви Бога нет!
«Off once more to the post: / will I find your letter? / My mind races all night / and daytime’s no better. I believe, I believe in omens, / in dreams and spiders. / I have confidence in skis, / in slim boats on rivers. I have faith in diesel engines, / in their roars and growls, / ...»
«How cold are the woods in the fall! / Mind, put on your shawl and your cloak. / Look there — where the pines form a wall, / A fire seems to rise without smoke. / / The northern lights glow, undulate, / While near you I bring them to mind. / The phosphorous eyes scintillate, / But ...»
«On the Occasion of the Demolition of the Moscow Kremlin / by the Architect Bazhenov in the Year 1770 to Build a New Palace, / as the Author was Departing from Moscow for Petersburg Farewell, capital city, edifice magnificent, / Marvel of antiquity: Moscow, Russia’s adornment! / Proud are ...»
«Oh, the first may-lily! Out from the snow / You ask for a sun ray cheerfully; / What a virgin bliss you throw out / With your fragrant purity! How colourful is the first ray of spring! / How remarkable are the dreams set in it! / How splendid you are, the present flammable / Of the comi...»