Vladimir Solovyov
Lies in this sepulcher.
Once a philosopher
And now a skeleton.
To some he was kind,
To many an enemy;
But, having loved madly,
He plunged into a ravine
And lost his mortal soul,
Not to mention body:
The devil ransomed it,
The dogs ransacked him.
Passerby! Learn from this example,
How malignant love and beneficial faith.
Владимир Соловьев
Лежит на месте этом.
Сперва был философ.
А ныне стал шкелетом.
Иным любезен быв,
Он многим был и враг;
Но, без ума любив,
Сам ввергнулся в овраг
Он душу потерял,
Не говоря о теле:
Ее диавол взял,
Его ж собаки съели.
Прохожий! Научись из этого примера,
Сколь пагубна любовь и сколь полезна вера.
«Words’ ease and freshness — is it less / For us than for an artist — vision, / For actors — voice and hand precision, / For beauties — beauty and finesse? The gift you have is not from earth, / Don’t try to save it for yourself: / We are condemned — we know this well —...»
«To V. A. Komarovsky This quiet April day imparted / Words full of strangeness and mystique. / You knew that I was still faint-hearted / From the distressing Maundy week. I didn’t hear the ringing clang / That swam up high in azure glaze. / Either a copper laughter rang / Or silver te...»
«Next to the river, this dark town — / My blissful crib at first, and then, / The marital bed where I lied down, / With garlands hanging overhead, / Your youthful seraphs up above, / A town loved with bitter love. The platform for my prayers, you / Were gloomy, quiet and austere. / M...»
«How dare you, on the Neva, gaze, / Advancing on these bridges calmly?.. / I’ve been saddened, in a daze, / Since your vision rose before me. / These black angels have sharp wings. / Final judgment’s drawing near. / And crimson flames, in fiery rings, / Rose-like, in the snow appear»