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Andrei Rublev

Андрей Рублев

It is my firm and sweet conviction,
Directed by monastic art,
This woman’s face is heaven’s depiction
To Promised One by Maker’s heart.

Her nose, like tree trunk, tall and slender,
Unfurls the arches of her brows
Above expression stern yet tender,
Like bending of a date-palm’s boughs.

Her eyes like sirins ’neath the branches,
Prophetic, sweetly seem to sing,
They deftly tell tale’s circumstances,
Disclose soul’s secrets on the wing.

Like heaven’s vault – her open forehead;
Above her curls appear like cloud;
And gentle seraphs, charming, timid,
With wings are brushing head unbowed.

And there beneath the tree, red’s smother –
Her lips are daubed with Eden’s shade,
The tint that tempted Eve our mother
To break the covenant she had made.

Andrei Rublev wrote all this for me
With brilliant brush’s artful prod,
And in this sad life’s labour’s torment
I find that I’ve been blessed by God.

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A portrait of a man

His eyes are lightless underground lakes, / Abandoned castles of the ancient kings. / Marked with the sign of the eternal shame / Of that, the Other One, he never speaks. / The deepest wound, his mouth, dark and purple, / Made with a blade borne of the deadly poison; / And it is sad and ...

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....