They would pass by, and again depart,
They could not deceive me...
There is a certain, single word
Which encompasses the entire essence.
The others — are dried feather-grass.
The others — are all flotsam,
Gray dust.
A girl walked across the street,
An auto screamed a word to her...
And then, the crowd stood over her,
But the girl is gone — there’s only dust.
Don’t you agree that people
Have such odd ears and eyes?
Don’t you agree that everywhere
Lines and sounds are so obscure?
The whole world is here,
Yet its essence is lost to us...
But the animals know the word,
The mute animals:
A Pekinese,
Naked and coarse-skinned,
Trembling on a May evening
At the doorstep of some club.
Watches cautiously —
And is silent for thirteen years,
As the cat is silent
In the bakery on Muette.
Animals can’t speak
People can’t comprehend,
And the world grows gray, like dust,
Falling into uselessness...
Проходили они, уходили снова,
Не могли меня обмануть…
Есть какое-то одно слово,
В котором вся суть.
Другие — сухой ковыль.
Другие все — муть,
Серая пыль.
Шла девочка через улицу,
Закричал ей слово автомобиль…
И вот, толпа над ней сутулится,
Но девочки нет – есть пыль.
Не правда ли, какие странные
Уши и глаза у людей?
Не правда ли, какие туманные
Линии и звуки здесь?
А мир весь
Здесь.
Для нас он — потери…
Но слово знают звери,
Молчаливые звери:
Собачка китайская,
Голубая, с кожей грубой,
В дверях какого-то клуба
Дрожит вечером майским,
Смотрит сторожко, —
Молчит тринадцать лет,
Как молчит и кошка
В булочной на Muette.
Звери сказать не умеют,
Люди не знают,
И мир, как пыль, сереет,
Пропадом пропадает…
«I startled. Then I saw that it was not a dream. / Nor was it the fancy of a poet. / The "Theodor Nette" turned about to steam / Into the port. / / I have recognized him. He arrived / Wearing round spectacles of safety buoys. / Hello, Nette! I'm so glad that you're alive, / A smoky l...»
«For the word you remembered once / And then forgot forever, / For all that in the burning sunset / You looked for and you never found, And for despair of your dreams, / And for the cold that grew inside your chest, / And for a slow-growing death / Without any hope of moving on, And for...»
«O, you, my life, enough of fuss, / Enough complaints, – it's all just void. / And peace descends into the world – / You, too, search for your rest. I want the heavy snow to fall, / The sky, transparent blue, to stretch, / And that I could forever sense / Ice in my heart and on the t...»
«Dawn and rain. A dense fog in the park, / And in the window – an unneeded candle, / An open and forgotten trunk, / Her shoulders that barely tremble. No word about us, no word about the past. / It’s such a trifle – what happened at the end! / When solitude for two – it is so sad.....»