by Alexander Alexandrovich Blok
Oh, why for me the dawn's flush now?
Why for the wicked troubles of partings?
All in this world is like the whirling dancing,
While two hands together are touching!
I see your pale cheeks, and I catch
Your swan-like light tread, and I hear
The opened talking and that
Your delicate name I love, dear!
And new dreams, which strayed to me now
Are making uneasy on way...
And a mantle of snow can't cover
Me all over head on this day...
Then rush along, whirl and torment me
The snowflakes are cold on news...
The threads of my soul so thin either -
Let's tear, disperse them, consume...
You're cold, my cold, my winter,
You see - in my soul is passion...
And my heart - stop, the sighing ascetic,
And let you die, the hymn, the anthem...
And again it flies, flies and flies,
And it rings, and snow wheels around,
The blizzard quickly rushes
All of snow sparkles.
You, as a vision, dancing
And among girlfriends,
Raced the cirle round,
So rapid, endless...
The conversation sounds,
Pale cheeks I chance
To see, your clear eyes...
With smile only, with cheer
I can explain my talk...
O happiness! O happiness!
We have the night for long!
And you again along vague path
Are flying away...
And sweeping up,
And singing... And again
Your body flexible
The cloud of the snow whirl
Has covered all,
Has taken you away...
And once again the blizzard's
twisting,
And whirling round, singing...
And all - betrayals, all - my visions...
In snow cup, with foam filled,
The hop
Is ringing...
And let wheel, let beat, let
The heart - hush then,
And cover the virgin's step -
There is no death!
In dark field - there's snow
Going!
There is many years -
To hard dole...
And again, again she returns
Her twisting...
The blizzard's singing. The sound is - clear.
And you again race
Round the circle,
And sparkling to friend
On the earth...
And what will be this dance?
With what light you entice
And tease me?
In this turning round
When you could get tired?
Which songs? And which sounds?
What am I afraid of?
And sounds such pressing...
Has Russia the free fate?
And loking like dreaming,
And looking like circling,
The Earth is escaping,
The solid is opened...
And like the insanity,
Like the tormenting,
There are the oblivion,
The daring, death, -
You're racing! You're racing!
You threw all your hands forth...
And raises up the song...
So strange gleaming features...
So hot is your dancing!
O energy! O song! O death! O my mask...
Is you - the accordion?
-
*The verse is subjected to the rhythm of snowfakes dancing...
In sillence the snowfakes are circling round the poet
and brings him the images, which are thrown away be the next round...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem