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.
«The streams of time / on stone dreams, / the rush of streams / on time's stones. / Rustling sedge / at the lake's edge — / reverent hush, / reverberant rush.»
«Snowfellow, tallfellow, bright beacon, / what has become of your mother? / Snowfellow, tallfellow, bright beacon, / Where have they buried your mother?»
«You are my song, my dark-blue dream / of doves, of winter's drowsy drone, / and sleighs that slow and golden go / through gray-blue shadows on the snow.»
«Languor-wing flies in the middle of fable, / made breathless by a girl's charms; / tangled in nets of golden wool / Let me die here in your arms.»