A.Blok, At The Open Doors... - Translation (Rus.) - Poem by Lyudmila Purgina
At the open doors - something's glimmering,
Outdoors, behind windows - images.
I don't know - ingnorance dissembling,
While asleep - I'll flow in visions.
In the silent air - melting, knowing...
Something's hided, laughing at...
What is laughing? May be mine, and longing
Heart, which's beating joyously yet.
Is it spring outdoors - pink and sleepy?
Or it is You - Clear - to me is smiling?
Or it is my only heart loving - living?
Or it's only seeming? All's recognizing?
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