Until death itself... Who would have thought?
(A sleigh at the doorstep, wind, snow)
I know, I know. But how could one think
That this is until death? Completely? Forever?
Be silent, be silent, we don't need hope
(Evening, wind, snow, houses...)
But who would have thought that there is no hope?
(A sleigh. Evening. Wind. Darkness.)
До самой смерти… Кто бы мог думать?
(Санки у подъезда. Вечер. Снег.)
Никто не знал. Но как было думать,
Что это — совсем? Навсегда? Навек?
Молчи! Не надо твоей надежды!
(Улица. Вечер. Ветер. Дома.)
Но как было знать, что нет надежды?
(Вечер. Метелица, Ветер. Тьма.)
«My shadow remained and it pines there, listless, / In that light and blue room, it has settled down, / Past midnight it waits for the guests from town, / And the enameled icon, every night, it kisses. / And in this house, not everything is pleasant: / They’ll light a fire, but darkness s...»
«The heavens sow a light rain / On the blooming lilac shrub. / While, outside, the white Whit Monday / Beats its wings, ascending up. And today’s — a closing date, / My dear friend returns from sea. / Shores and towers, as of late, / In my dreams, appear to me. Climbing up the final...»
«I know that you are my reward / For years of struggle, sweat and pain, / For not accepting any sort / Of earthly pleasures under strain, / For never uttering the words / To my beloved: "You are loved", / For me forgiving all to all, — / You’ll be my Angel from above. »
«These meeting didn’t leave / Any deep understanding of life, / No secrets and no grief — / Just a sense of struggle and strife. Since morning, my arms trembled / With restless uncertainty, — / I had guessed the minute you’d enter / This evening to visit me. I wrung the cloth in...»