Первое путешествие - перевод М. Цветаевой

The first travel
By Marina Tsvetaeva

"Sail" - Spring told, and you see:
The earth has gone, a foam flashed,
The ship-divan in the lakes of dream
Rushed to the tale of Andersen.

What evil, what sorcerer did aim us
From the sleepy waters up
To a land of the orchids giant,
Of the sad eyes, of the groves of lime?

We sailed by shores, where
The Palm of Peace is growing green,
Where the palaces are made
From a pearl, towers - from saphire.

The late winter snow disappeared,
The magnolia's snow blossoming smell
We enjoyed... Where were we slipping -
We didn't know! Of no matter that!

The supple flowers stretched around,
As the fascinated snakes,
There from the enlightened darkness
The cunning pigmies nictated...

The final beam of sun had fleed,
And melting in the latter clouds' side,
There a Pegas-cloud glimpsed,
The airy fishes' flock has run. 

A crescent moon between the grass
Flickered in water, as an enamel...
It was so near, but alas -
We failed to catch it in our netting!

Under the motley canopy of miracles
We laid, filled with the secret dreams,
Our fear swept under the gleam of the eyes,
Of the green eyes of somebody.

The wine was pouring there on banks
Into the glass decanters,
And stewards were at sevice as
The whales and dolphins lumping...

Suddenly - ring! Here he comes! There's no any mercy!
That's the clock's strike, long and loud!
Wow? Isn't that a Papa's cabinet, so?
The divan? And the familiar lane around?

And morning is near! Oh my God!
Halfly in dream, halfly in vigilance -
Along the wet streets up to home
We followed our wizard.

1910