Two threads are closely hafted,
The ends are unconfined.
'Tis «yea» and «nay», — not grafted,
Not grafted, — but entwined.
Dim is the weft that mates them
Close and inanimate,
But wakening awaits them,
And they the same await.
End unto end is taken,
Fresh «yea» and «nay» ignite,
And «yea» and «nay» awaken,
Into one moulding shaken,
And from their death comes, — light.
Две нити вместе свиты,
Концы обнажены.
То «да» и «нет» — не слиты,
Не слиты — сплетены.
Их темное сплетенье
И тесно, и мертво.
Но ждет их воскресенье,
И ждут они его.
Концов концы коснутся —
Другие «да» и «нет»,
И «да» и «нет» проснутся,
Сплетенные сольются,
И смерть их будет — Свет.
«...Like songs, years go by very quickly. / I've changed all my views and my mood. / The yard is too small for me, really, / I’m going to leave it for good. / / I want neither honors nor riches, / nor anything else for the road / except for my neighbourhood which is / the only big ...»
«Unyielding, raged and free, / burn, fire, burn on, please... / Decembers tend to be / replaced by Januaries. / / We’ve anything at all: / smiles, joys and everything, / one common moon for all, / one summer and one spring. / / We’d live and go to grass / then, come what m...»
«I’ll take a bag, a helmet and a ration, / a jacket of protective coloration, / I’ll tramp about the streets, a barracks lodger, / it’s easy to become a real soldier. / / I will forget my daily cares and pledges, / I do not have to think of jobs and wages. / I’m playing with my...»
«I’ve sung all my songs. / I’m out. / So don’t talk about it now. / Though, maybe, a line, or a sound, / has been left out somehow. / / The wheels spin above and around it, / and though it can’t swing at one dash, / naive and quite simple-minded, / it’s eager to dazzle an...»