К Музе - перевод А. Блока

To Muse
by Alexander Block

There exists in the tunes you're concealing
A message fatal about the death.
And the curse of your oaths sencere,
The violation of your happiness.

And there're such the luring power,
That I could thus repeat after rumours,
That you had all the angels brought down
By seducing them with your beauty...

When you laugh at the faith and the confidence,
I can see the flashing light above you
As the purple-grey circle, so softened,
Which I stand that I've seen it as  true.

Whether bad? Or quite good? You are alien.
You are queerly chewed over, well:
You're the Muse for the others and miracle,
But for me - only torture and hell.

I don't know, why for at the sunrise,
When I've got so exhausted and drained,
I escaped, having seen your face shining,
And I begged you for peace and a grace.

And I wished, that we'd be only enemies...
Why did you have a present to me -
Such a beautiful flourishing meadow,
And the stars in the sky - the cursed amenities...

Being more crafty than the north night there,
Being more heady than a golden wine,
Shorter than a gypsy's love swearing
Were your awful caresses this time.
 
And there was a fatal comfort in trampling
Of the holy and sacred such place
And the crazy but sweet delectation,
The bitter passion as wormwood in taste!