A strange alarm weighs on my heart,
Delirium of premonitions.
I look ahead and the road is dark
And perhaps there is no road.
But I cannot touch with any words
What is living in me — and in silence.
I do not dare to feel it:
It's like a dream. A dream within a dream.
O, my incomprehensible alarm!
It's more exhausting day by day.
And I know that the grief on the threshold now,
All that grief is not only for me.
На сердце непонятная тревога,
Предчувствий непонятных бред.
Гляжу вперед — и так темна дорога,
Что, может быть, совсем дороги нет.
Но словом прикоснуться не умею
К живущему во мне — и в тишине.
Я даже чувствовать его не смею:
Оно как сон. Оно как сон во сне.
О, непонятная моя тревога!
Она томительней день ото дня.
И знаю: скорбь, что ныне у порога,
Вся эта скорбь — не только для меня!
«In drowsiness, once more astounded, / Our starry heaven I behold — / The city of the purest fountains, / Bakhchisarai of shinning gold. There, past the fence, and down below, / Along the water, we recalled / The fields of Tsarskoye Selo, / As we sat, blissfully enthralled, There we d...»
«The immortelle is dry and rosy. Overhead, / The clouds seem misshapen in the sky. / The leafage of the only oak nearby / Is colorless and thin still as of yet. The midnight hour’s lit with sunset’s embers. / How great I feel inside my narrow cell! / Today, the birds converse with me a...»
«I concealed all my worry inside me, / And gazed casually, calm and composed. / She sat down, like a porcelain idol, / In a long predetermined pose. It’s my daily routine to be merry / But attentiveness takes all my might… / Or did indolence now overwhelm me / After so many scented M...»
«I hear the always-sad voice of the oriole / and I salute the passing of delectable summer. / With the hissing of a snake the scythe cuts down / the stalks, one pressed hard against another. And the hitched-up skirts of the slender reapers / fly in the wind like holiday flags. Now if only / ...»