Старый, старый сон - пер. А. Блока

By Alexander Blok

The old, old dream. From darkness
The lanterns run to - where?
There - only a water black,
There - the oblivion forever.
The shadow slides out of the corner,
And other one had scrawled nearby.
The raincoat is opened, the breast is white,
And the red flower is in the buttonhole of his dress.

The second shadow - is the knight harmonious,
Or may be that's the bride from ceremony?
There is a helmet and a fur on it. No face,though.
Is motionless like the deadman's body.

In the gates the ring is ringing,
Indistinctly the lock clicked.
Over the threshold stepped, entering,
The prostitute and the debauchee...

The cold wind is howling.
It is silent, empty, dark.
And above the window's light.
Of no difference, thus.

As a lead - the water is black.
There in it the oblivion forever.
There's the third ghost. Where
Are you, from dark to dark slipping.

7.02.1914