I love Humanity and Nature,
But I don't like to merely stroll,
I know for sure, while filling pages:
No one will grasp my works at all.
Content with small stuff, I’m beholding
What stingy life gave, as it could:
A leaning elm and barn — my gold things,
A small, wide hill; on it, a wood.
No ill-bred fame or persecution
From fellow men I think I'll face,
Yet I've been trimming lilac bushes
Around my garden and terrace.
Люблю людей, люблю природу,
Но не люблю ходить гулять,
И твердо знаю, что народу
Моих творений не понять.
Довольный малым, созерцаю
То, что дает нещедрый рок:
Вяз, прислонившийся к сараю,
Покрытый лесом бугорок…
Ни грубой славы, ни гонений
От современников не жду,
Но сам стригу кусты сирени
Вокруг террасы и в саду.
«I am deprived of everything, / of health, of will, of air, of sleep. / A vengeful God has let me keep / just you — to keep me praying to Him.»
«It’s time my friends, it’s time. We long for peace / of heart. But days chase days and every hour / gone by means one less hour to come. We live / our lives, dear friend, in hope of life, then die. / There is no happiness on earth, but peace / exists, and freedom too. Tired slave, I dr...»
«City of splendour, city of poor, / spirit of grace and servitude, / heaven’s vault of palest lime, / boredom, granite, bitter cold — / still I miss you rather, for / down your streets from time to time / one may spy a tiny foot, / one may glimpse a lock of gold.»
«Like a jester complaining of the cruel weight / of his hump – let me tell about my orphaned state. Behind the devil there’s his horde, behind the thief there’s his band, / behind everyone there’s someone to understand and support him – the assurance of a living wall / of thousands ...»