A night is - like the ages, weakly trembling,
A passionate delirium inside
Of lips about strange and blessed, the babble,
In window - an old and dim light.
Unrealizable assuarances,
No, there're no any words -
That are the things, which lose their values,
When it is near a pale dawn.
Then - in the tired eyes I'd see -
The lie - and your hard lie!
But the red curve of my mouth's similar
Mistically - to your line!
27 dec 1913
Ночь - как века... - перевод А. Блока
© Copyright: Людмила 31, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112061405250
Свидетельство о публикации №112061405250
Рецензии