My talent is pitiful, my voice not loud,
but I am living; somewhere in the world
someone looks kindly on my life; far off
a distant fellow-man will read my words
and find my being; and, who knows, my soul
will raise an echo in his soul, and I
who found a friend in my own time,
will find a reader in posterity.
Мой дар убог и голос мой не громок,
Но я живу, и на земли моё
Кому-нибудь любезно бытиё:
Его найдёт далёкий мой потомок
В моих стихах: как знать? душа моя
Окажется с душой его в сношеньи,
И как нашёл я друга в поколеньи,
Читателя найду в потомстве я.
«A woman is awake in someone’s window. / The woman stranger must be telling fortunes. / What card will fall to her today to be her fortune? / God send her all the four brave noble kings! The king of hearts, the king of clubs, the king of spades, / The king of diamonds: troubles, midnight t...»
«“What’s going on in the world?” — “Wintertime, nothing more.” / “Just wintertime, nothing more, you believe?” — “Evidently, / Truth is, I too do my best to arrive at the entry / Into your homes that have fallen asleep long before.” “What is to follow all this?” —...»
«It’s all we need: to look intently — oh, my God! / It’s so simple: look intently, look inside, / And that is it — we cannot turn away or hide / From these amazing eyes, from their sudden depth. It’s all we need: to read intently — oh, my God! / It’s so simple: linger over tho...»
«Time is moving forward, exact and fast, / and my shadow grows as years pass, Every month it lengthens, it doesn't stay, / It is longer, longer with every day. Here I see the shape of my own hand / laid upon a field and a river bend. Here I see my shoulder, it almost reached / snow-cove...»