We Will Leave At The Sunset. From Balmont Poem by Liza Sud
We Will Leave At The Sunset. From Balmont
We will leave at the sunset of a crimson day
In our garden that is filled with the calls of birds.
between the branches listen to me or to them.
I'm talking to you - just as they used to say.
Now winter has passed. Beckoning to the air,
This is how the heart to the soul speaks through the eyes.
This how birds sing about the trembling of flame.
Hurry to understand them. They will sing and fly.
***
Мы уйдём на закате багряного дня
В наш наполненный птичьими криками сад.
Слушай их, меж ветвей. Или слушай меня.
Я с тобой говорю — как они говорят.
Миновала зима. И в воздушность маня,
Это — сердце душе говорит через взгляд.
Эти птицы поют о дрожаньях Огня.
Их понять торопись. Пропоют, улетят.
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4/25/2024 4:54:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
For a lover of birds and gardens this is a very special poem. The birds seek the cool warmth of the garden just as we will on a hot day in early spring; and their song is meant for us. The poet tells us to listen to them intently because after delivering their message in song they will fly away, and then the garden will be ours as we make sense of their song. But the poet has given us what we need to know: THIS IS HOW THE HEART SPEAKS TO THE SOUL THROUGH THE EYES. What a triad of physical and meta-physical organs to achieve union: Eyes, Hearts, Souls! ! Excelsior, as I'm fond of saying when I feel the happiness of the garden around me, and you in it, too.