A keresés eredménye

I had a dream and shivered...

I had a dream and shivered,
It seemed as if once more
I'd been to earth delivered
As in the days of yore,
 
And life began repeating
Its same inane design
From youth so pure and fleeting
To elderly resign:
 
I wept and laughed aplenty,
Felt joy and anguish too,
I gave myself to frenzy,
And weakly sought the true...
 
By fantasies enraptured,
I wished for noble deeds, -
But mocked by friends, was shattered,
And cursed what fate decreed.
 
And somehow in affliction
I found a grim delight
My eyes, with illness stricken
Desired an endless night,
 
And so I reached the border,
And stood at death's dark door, -
But heard that cruel order:
Arise, and live once more!
 

Intoxication and illumination

Intoxication from sorrow, illumination by the low, dim candles, —
We didn’t suspect, expect we’d connect on the earth or in heavens.
Blood coursing onto the earth, love sourcing such flowers to take root
That threatening would spring the black-hearted sting of the beaut[y].
And in the persistent deserts, the earth of our creation,
Suddenly, we’d each other find melding in desire and elation.
For sadness and madness, for pain and thunders, perhaps in requital,
The exaltation of Volition, it is I who placed you on the pedestal.
 

A Rowan Tree Grows In His Garden...

A rowan tree grows in his garden.
The sorrow is his house warden.
He wears a dirty tattered robe.
With foggy mist the eyes are covered,
The face seems deeply saffron-colored,
His skinny stature's bent like globe.
 
The sanguine hope is gone forever,
From grave misfortunes what will save him?
And now fate tells him to abide.
In front of his hut, sad and dour,
Accursed by mighty evil power,
A bitter rowan stands like bride.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

In The Time Of Midnight Turning...

In the time of midnight turning,
All alone with wrenching yearning,
Facing my lamp, I implore.
Pesky life has been forgotten,
My front door is tightly locked in, -
What do I hear through this door?
 
What's the reason for its swaying,
Slightly opening, not staying,
Squeaking on the hinges' spread?
I beg my door: do not open!
Do not let external cold in!
I cannot endure this dread.
 
What should I do? Pray Almighty?
Hold the door with my hand tightly?
But my arm grew weak, I learn.
And with fear my lips tremble.
Thus, from ashes once assembled,
Into ashes soon I'll turn.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

The Fun Times And Wine Are Forgotten...

The fun times and wine are forgotten,
The armor and sword're left behind, -
Alone he goes down to the bottom
Of dungeon - no light in hand, blind.
 
The door started squeaking with drawling, -
It has not been used for a while.
It's humid and dark behind door ring,
The window is narrow and high.
 
The eyes're getting used to the darkness, -
Behold, something shows through the mist,
Some strange signs appear with sharpness
On vaults, floors, walls - they can't be missed.
 
For long time he looks at the weaving
Of strange cryptic signs, and he waits
That all-seeing death will bring heaving
Enlightenment sight to his gaze.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

What Evil Changes Crept Upon Me!..

What evil changes crept upon me!
Why do I need to know your lore?
Again the walls have closed around me,
And I shall turn to stone once more.
 
Again I fill with noise and rattle
My quiet streets, my sleepy heights,
And I forget in daily prattle
About the calm of forest nights.
 
And I establish trading markets,
I turn on lights with sleepy yawn,
And I forget the charming gardens,
And freshness of the morning dawn.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Sunset's Long Afterglow...

Sunset's long afterglow
I behold in deep awe.
 
Hear how my blood pounds
And in sundown resounds.
 
I feel joyful somehow,
That in flames I'm engulfed.
 
It's my blood that is fraying,
And it burns as it's playing
 
Over my rocky hill,
Over my rapid rill.
 
Lo! The sunset burned out,
I got tired of lookout.
 
I have shuttered my eyes,
I've extinguished the skies.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Can't See A Thing In The Field...

Can't see a thing in the field.
Someone is calling: 'Help me!'
What can I do?
I am both poor and small,
I am dead tired to crawl,
How'd I help you?
 
Someone calls me from calm field:
'Brother, come closer to me!
Let us be nigh.
If we can't go, if we stray,
Jointly we'll die on our way,
Jointly we'll die!'
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

The Streets Are So Empty And Quiet...

The streets are so empty and quiet,
All windows and doors have been shuttered.
My Scourge is with me, stirring riot,
There is no defense from its paws yet.
 
The rich locked themselves from the needy
With iron and copper fence tempered.
I'm pilgrim, so pale and so seedy,
And my Scourge is my faithful shepherd.
 
I can't let it go, I won't dare.
The streets are so empty and quiet.
Let's follow our own path threadbare,
The shaggy and wild Scourge, defiant!
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Wicked Temptress, My Death, Against Thou I Repined...

Wicked temptress, my Death, against thou I repined,
Why dost thou, evil, reign, bane all things - every kind.
And thou hast come to me, and in glory of day
Thou hast led me astray, forced to trace human way.
 
And I saw people there in a flash of thy glow,
Overshadowed with grief, evil, weakness, and throe.
And then I realized: Evil under thy stroke,
With the doomed people's lives, disappears like smoke.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Do Not Trust In Crafty Lie...

Do not trust in crafty lie,
Don't foretell, don't grieve, don't cry,
Bow to fate tread.
What is gone, you won't return,
Must be flat lie what you yearn,
Don't be tempted.
Feast of being is so brief.
Life is yours but is it, thief? -
Take your pleasure.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

I Could Not Find The Right Path...

I could not find the right path,
Now in woods, thick and dense,
All my past worries' bloodbath
Carry wearily, tense.
 
Having calmed my ambitions,
Starkly mute, without grief,
I don't rouse dim suspicions
Of the sleeping bawl's thief.
 
My deliverance I feel,
But I don't seek new ways, -
As I yearn after nothing,
About no thing complain.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.

Don't terrify me with a threat...

Versions: #2
Don't terrify me with a threat
Of shame, madness and torment,
A breathy vision- stay like that,
Don't ever incarnate.
 
Safe keep boundless hopes,
Like a distant star, you shine,
So that our rough clothes
Around you couldn't entwine.
 

Yellow Stem Props Scarlet Poppy...

Yellow stem props scarlet poppy,
Light of cigarette nearby.
As a blue snake swaying, choppy
Plume of smoke is rising high.
 
Growing colder, gray ash falls down,
Crumbles easily to dust.
My asylum's warm in no time,
Nothing's deep, no thing I trust.
 
Life, roll up as lightweight smoke plume!
I don't pity any thing.
Can't see distant parts in fog gloom, -
What could hopes and sorrow bring?!
 
All things pass, escaping reason,
Scatter as faint smoke and swing.
And in dreams of utmost freedom
With a smile we'll greet death sting.
 
Quality RU-EN and EN-RU translations by Ironic Iron.
Bringing joy of Russian music and poetry to the world.
When sharing, please thank & credit: (c) St. Sol @ LT.