When the moon shines in the dark of the night
With its unique sickle, brilliant and gentle,
My soul yearns for other world with highlight,
Fascinated by all far, shoreless, splendid.
I rush in wishes, as if my mind's fainted,
To forests and mountains, to peaks snow-white,
On the serene world I am awake landed,
I cry sweetly, and I breathe the moon sight.
And I am drinking this glow with pallid leaks,
Like an elf, I swing in a grid of rays,
And I am listening how the silence speaks.
And I'm far from my close people's pains and sicks,
The earth with its fight is out of my ways.
I am — a cloud, I am — a wind breath on peaks.
11 July, 2024
***
Фото: К. Д. Бальмонт, 1880 гг. Автор: неизвестен Источник: Википедия
Константин Бальмонт Лунный свет перевод на англ
© Copyright: Валентина Ильина-Печенова, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124071101863
Свидетельство о публикации №124071101863
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