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    Английский (English)

The Forest

Лес

White trunks
were stark, suddenly, against the haze,

Roots wound up out of the ground
like corpses’ arms.

The leaves’ bright fire
hid giants, dwarves, lions;

Fishermen saw in the sand
the print of a six-fingered hand.

No French noble, no knight of the Round Table,
ever walked here.

No robber slept in these bushes,
no monk dug caves in these hills.

Once, one stormy night,
a woman with a cat’s head came out of this forest,

Wearing a silver crown,
but she moaned all night

And died at dawn
before a priest could save her soul.

Ah, but that was so long ago
that no one remembers,

That — that was in a land
your dreams won’t take you to.

And I invented all this, staring
at your braids, the coils of a flaming snake,

Your green eyes
like round Persian turquoise.

That forest — it might be your soul.
That forest — it might be my love —

Or maybe, when we die,
that forest is where we’ll go, together.

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I`m dreaming that both of us dead…

I'm dreaming that both of us dead. / We're lying - so peaceful for ever. / Two white heavy coffins of lead / Put down together. / / And when did we say that "enough"? / What for then and what means the trying? / But strange that's not aching my heart, / My heart is not crying. / ...

Unperturbed and indifferent sun contemplated the planet…

Unperturbed and indifferent sun contemplated the planet / There all was infested with terror and eaten by rot, / There rocks in the distance appeared a huge shaggy dog, / There black boiling copper spewed out collapsing volcanoes. / Was the night of the world. / / Unexpectedly rolled i...

Their souls` love had been born beside the sea…

Their souls' love had been born beside the sea, / In sacred groves of virginal naiads, / Whose songs, arguing with the play of wind, / With strings, ring joyfully, eternally. / / Great oracle... the majesty of man / Has never been more strange and more severe, / The closed lips and th...

The Magic Violin

Pretty boy, / you are so merry / and your smile's - so light, so sunny. / Don't you ask me for this passion / that is poison to the worlds. / You don't know, don't know how dreadful / is this Magic Violin, sonny, / And how gloomy is the horror / of the one who strikes the ...

Comfort

He that has been burried / Hears a glorious chime, / Smells the whitest lilies / In his dream beyond time. / / He that in his grave lies / Sees an endless light / As the wings of Seraphs / Shed their snow-flakes bright. / / You are on your death-bed / And your hands are cold....

The Giraffe

Today, I can see that your glance is especially sad, / And your hands are especially frail and your hair especially a mess. / There, there now... Just listen... far, far away, on Lake Chad / Roams a proud and graceful giraffe... / / An exquisite figure and a leisurely life are his boon / ...