All days are fractured as though by crime,
The passage of hoary time grows rusty,
My body's fettered with rigidity,
My heart oppressed and my blood cold as ice.
But there comes lightning: everything can change
In a prophetic dream or wide awake.
The sword of the Archangel touches me
With burning flame and I'm alive again!
Все дни изломаны, как преступлением,
Седого Времени заржавел ход.
И тело сковано оцепенением,
И сердце сдавлено, и кровь — как лед.
Но знаю молнии: всё изменяется...
Во сне пророческом иль наяву?
Копье Архангела меня касается
Ожогом пламенным — и я живу.
Пусть на мгновение, — на полмгновения,
Одним касанием растоплен лед...
Я верю в счастие освобождения,
В Любовь, прощение, в огонь — в полет!
«Walker, you look like me, / Eyes cast down. / I once lowered them — too! / Passer-by, wait! Read — when you have gathered / A bouquet of poppies — / That I was called Marina / And how old I was. Do not think that this is — a grave, / That I will appear, scary... / I too w...»
«Veins filled with sun — not blood — / On my hand, brown so soon. / I am at one with my great love / To own my soul. I am waiting for a grasshopper, I count to a hundred, / Chewing a stalk's spine... / — Strange to feel so strongly and so simply / The fleetingness of life — and»
«I am defiantly wearing his ring / — Yes, in Eternity — as wife, not on paper. — / His overly narrow face — / Like a sword. His mute mouth, angles down, / Painfully gorgeous eyebrows. / In his face tragically merged / Two ancient blood lines. He is thin like first fragile branc...»
«1. The August day was slowly melting / Into the golden afternoon dust. / A few rattling trams, / And people passing. Absent-mindedly, as if without a goal, / I took a quiet lane. / And — I remember — the soft pealing / Of bells. I envision your pose / I decide everything on the...»