Autumn this year is a rabbit affair
and no eye can distinguish
the shivering season from the shaking beast.
Shifty, all yellow,
autumn-color dweller.
Dead leaves and stubble
on hillside and swamp-stump
everywhere, and even the eye
blinks blindly, not knowing
one quick shiver of fear
from another.
Эта осень такая заячья,
И глазу границы не вывести
Осени робкой и зайца пугливости.
Окраскою желтой хитер
Осени желтой житер.
От гривы до гребли
Всюду мертвые листья и стебли.
И глаз остановится слепо, не зная, чья
Осени шкурка или же заячья?
«I’m nailed to the tavern counter. / I’m drunk already, but not through. / The happiness that I’ve encountered / The troika took into the blue... It flew off in the sleigh, and drowned / In snows of time, beyond the sky... / And silver haze, raised from the ground, / Just whipped m...»
«You’re like a temple, tall and white. / You’re pure and bright like virgin snow, / I don’t believe this lengthy night / And hopeless evenings, full of woe. My soul, itself, is desecrated, / And I won’t trust it anymore. / Perhaps, a traveler belated, — / I’ll knock against y...»
«I’ll never forget it (did it happen or not, / This evening): The setting sun’s blaze / Drew open the sky and burned it, red hot, / And the streetlamps shone — in its rays. / I sat by the window and leaned on the pane. / Distant bows sang something of love. / I sent you a black rose...»
«There, a man burned. / Fet Among the crowds, it’s becoming harder / To act undead, when life is make-believe, / And to relate tragic play of ardor / To all of those who’ve yet to really live. And to inspect your nightmares and aspire / For order in the vortex of the heart, / So tha...»