Vladislav Khodasevich
Through the window

I

I had lots of fun today:
First the thief who pinched a pullet
From that hag across the way;
Then the horse — they tried to pull it —
Jumped and bolted like a bullet;
And the kite has flown away.

But — the thief is no more free,
They have locked him in a cell;
Found the kite beneath the tree;
Caught the horse — and all is well:
I regain my private hell
In its former symmetry.

2

I wait: a car might go berserk;
Some gaping loafer would be killed;
The dusty road will be bespilled
With patterns of the bloody work.

And then disasters will abound,
Upheavals, lunacy, and waste;
A star will fall and hit the ground,
And water have a bitter taste.

Dreams will not stifle me at night.
All that I wanted will be done,
And angels will put out the sun,
As at dawn — superfluous light.

Translated by Yakov Hornstein