Like winds of seas, you toss the shutters,
Like winds of deserts, you sing: «Behold!
You're mine for ever! I'm ancient Clutter,
Your old, good fellow, — unlock your hold!»
I dare not open, I hold the shutters,
I hold the shutters and hide my fright.
I keep and cherish, I keep with flutter
My love — my treasure, my last day light.
The sightless Chaos laughs, calls and moans:
«You'll die in irons — pull off this stuff!
You can be happy, you are alone,
Bliss lies in freedom — and in Non-Love.»
I grow colder and try a prayer,
I'm hardly able my love to pray...
My hands get weaker, I've lost warfare,
My hands get weaker... I will obey!
З. В.
Как ветер мокрый, ты бьешься в ставни,
Как ветер черный, поешь: ты мой!
Я древний хаос, я друг твой давний,
Твой друг единый, — открой, открой!
Держу я ставни, открыть не смею,
Держусь за ставни и страх таю.
Храню, лелею, храню, жалею
Мой луч последний — любовь мою.
Смеется хаос, зовет безокий:
Умрешь в оковах, — порви, порви!
Ты знаешь счастье, ты одинокий,
В свободе счастье — и в Нелюбви.
Охладевая, творю молитву,
Любви молитву едва творю...
Слабеют руки, кончаю битву,
Слабеют руки... Я отворю!
«Feather-grass sleeps. Dear plain sleeps also, / Also a wormwood, freshened lead in dark. / No other land could be compared, no one, / With my native country, warm to heart. It is said, that we are surely destined, / You can ask that question to everyone - / Being in state of joy or rage o...»
«Not weeks, not months — years / We spent parting. Now at last / The chill of real freedom, / And the gray garland above the temples. No more treasons, no more betrayals, / And you won’t be listening till dawn / As the stream of evidence / Of my perfect innocence flows on.»
«Clouds melt in the sky. / Beaming in the heat, / the river runs, sparkling / like a steel mirror. It's hotter by the hour. / Shadows retreat to silent oak thickets. / From whitening fields / wafts honey-scent. What a wondrous day! Centuries will pass / and in the same eternal order ...»
«Snow is still white in the fields / but spring is in the water's voice. / Running, the waters wake the sleepy banks. / They run, they glisten, they rejoice. "Spring is coming, spring is coming!" / in every direction they shout. / "We're the young spring's runners, / with the news she ha...»