And clearness of glance has turned to dark,
And violin has lain under a bow,
The evil force of the conductor
Swished up a wind over the harps...
Your features ardent, smoky image
Swimmed through a gloomy lodge as dream,
The tenor sang on scene the anthem
To the crazy viloins and spring.
When a sudden sigh, near and close,
On coming to - has frozen blood,
Someone, so sad and so poor
Has leaned his hand against my heart...
When in the guessing, hardly viewed in,
There raised again, as a rarefied jinn,
That ghost against me, still invincible,..
The harps sang then: "let's fly with me".
Уже померкла ясность... - перевод А. Блока
© Copyright: Людмила 31, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116021207199
Свидетельство о публикации №116021207199
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