And this tenderness was not like
That which a certain poet
At the beginning of the century called true
And, for some reason, quiet. No, not at all
It rang out, like the first waterfall,
It crunched like the crust of bluish ice
And it prayed with a swanlike voice,
And it broke down right before our eyes.
Stichwörter: tenderness
The celebrations
Of secret nonmeetings are empty,
Unspoken conversations,
Unuttered words.
Glances that don't intersect
Don't know where to come to rest.
And only the tears rejoice
Because they can flow and flow.
Sweetbrier around Moscow,
Alas! Somehow it is here ...
And all this they will call
Love eternal.
How the miracle of our meeting
Shone there and sang,
I didn't want to return
From there to anywhere.
Happiness instead of duty
Was bitter delight to me.
Not obliged to speak to anyone,
I spoke for a long while.
Let passions stifle lovers,
Demanding answers,
We, my dear, are only souls
At the limits of the world.
You invented me. There is no such earthly being,
Such an earthly being there could never be.
A doctor cannot cure, a poet cannot comfort
A shadowy apparition haunts you night and day.
We met in an unbelievable year,
When the world's strength was at an ebb,
Everything withered by adversity,
And only the graves were fresh.
Without streetlights, the Neva's waves were black as pitch,
Thick night enclosed me like a wall ...
That's when my voice called out to you!
Why it didI still don't understand.
And you came to me, as if guided by a star
That tragic autumn, stepping
Into that irrevocably ruined house,
From whence had flown a flock of burnt verse.
Stichwörter: meetings
Let whoever wants to, relax in the south,
And bask in the garden of paradise.
Here is the essence of northand it's autumn
I've chosen as this year's friend.
Stichwörter: fall autumn north
Song falls silent, music is dumb,
But the air burns with their fragrance,
And white winter, on its knees,
Observes everything with reverent attention.
Stichwörter: winter
This land, although not my native land,
Will be remembered forever.
And the sea's lightly iced,
Unsalty water.
The sand on the bottom is whiter than chalk,
The air is heady, like wine,
And the rosy body of the pines
Is naked in the sunset hour.
And the sunset itself on such waves of ether
That I just can't comprehend
Whether it is the end of the day, the end of the world,
Or the mystery of mysteries in me again.
Stichwörter: home mystery sunset finland not-home
I seem to myself, as in a dream,
An accidental guest in this dreadful body.
Stichwörter: illness embodiment
Now that you're there, where everything is knowntell me:
What else lived in that house besides us?
Stichwörter: haunting
Though you are three times more beautiful than angels,
Though you are the sister of the river willows,
I will kill you with my singing,
Without spilling your blood on the ground.
Not touching you with my hand,
Not giving you one glance, I will stop loving you,
But with your unimaginable groans
I will finally slake my thirst.
From her, who wandered the earth before me,
Crueler than ice, more fiery than flame,
From her, who still exists in the ether—
From her you will set me free.
Stichwörter: unrequited-love cruelty
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