On slow and smoky fire thou burn'st and art consuméd,
Oh, thou, my soul.
On slow and smoky fire thou burn'st and art consuméd,
With hidden dole.
Thou droopest like Sebastian, pierced with pointed arrows,
Harassed and spent,
Thou droopest like Sebastian, pierced with pointed arrows,
Thy flesh all rent.
Thy foes encircle thee and watch with gleeful laughter
And bended bow,
Thy foes encircle thee and watch with gleeful laughter
Thy torments slow.
The embers burn, and gentle is the arrow's stinging,
'Neath the evening sky,
The embers burn, and gentle is the arrow's stinging,
When the end draws nigh.
Why hastens not thy dream unto thy lips, now pallid
With deadly drouth?
Why hastens not thy dream unto thy lips, now pallid
To kiss thy mouth?
На медленном огне горишь ты и сгораешь,
Душа моя!
На медленном огне горишь ты и сгораешь,
Свой стон тая.
Стоишь, как Себастьян, пронизанный стрела́ми,
Без сил вздохнуть.
Стоишь, как Себастьян, пронизанный стрела́ми
В плечо и грудь.
Твои враги кругом с веселым смехом смотрят,
Сгибая лук.
Твои враги кругом с веселым смехом смотрят
На смены мук.
Горит костер, горит, и стрелы жалят нежно
В вечерний час.
Горит костер, горит, и стрелы жалят нежно
В последний раз.
Что ж не спешит она к твоим устам предсмертным,
Твоя мечта?
Что ж не спешит она к твоим устам предсмертным
Прижать уста!
«The wooden barge of life / Somehow ran aground. / Far away, the screams / Of the crew resound. / On the shallow river, / There’s alarm and song. / Suddenly, a peasant, / Powerful and strong, / Turned the wooden rudder, / And let the sails spread, / Sent the boat-hook flying, / ...»
«A girl was singing in the old church choir, / About the ships that sailed in the mist, / About those abroad, whose lives turned dire, / And those who’ve lost their happiness and bliss. / Up in the cupolas, her voice had filled the room, / The sun, upon her shoulders, made them white, / ...»
«I love You, My Guardian Angel, in gloom. / In gloom, that has followed me out of the womb. / Because you were once my fair gorgeous bride. / Because you have seen all the secrets I hide. / Because we are bound by secrets and night. / Because you’re my sister, my daughter, my bride. / B...»
«Night. The city grew calm. / Behind the large window / The mood is solemn and somber, / As if a man is dying. / But there someone stands simply sad, / Troubled by his misfortune, / With an opened collar, / And looks at the stars. / “Stars, stars, / Tell me the cause of grief!” ...»