\u041d\u0435 \u0436\u0430\u043b\u0435\u044e, \u043d\u0435 \u0437\u043e\u0432\u0443, \u043d\u0435 \u043f\u043b\u0430\u0447\u0443,<\/p>\n
\u0412\u0441\u0451 \u043f\u0440\u043e\u0439\u0434\u0451\u0442, \u043a\u0430\u043a \u0441 \u0431\u0435\u043b\u044b\u0445 \u044f\u0431\u043b\u043e\u043d\u044c \u0434\u044b\u043c.<\/p>\n
\u0423\u0432\u044f\u0434\u0430\u043d\u044c\u044f \u0437\u043e\u043b\u043e\u0442\u043e\u043c \u043e\u0445\u0432\u0430\u0447\u0435\u043d\u043d\u044b\u0439,<\/p>\n
\u042f \u043d\u0435 \u0431\u0443\u0434\u0443 \u0431\u043e\u043b\u044c\u0448\u0435 \u043c\u043e\u043b\u043e\u0434\u044b\u043c.
\n <\/p>\n
\u0422\u044b \u0442\u0435\u043f\u0435\u0440\u044c \u043d\u0435 \u0442\u0430\u043a \u0443\u0436 \u0431\u0443\u0434\u0435\u0448\u044c \u0431\u0438\u0442\u044c\u0441\u044f,<\/p>\n
\u0421\u0435\u0440\u0434\u0446\u0435, \u0442\u0440\u043e\u043d\u0443\u0442\u043e\u0435 \u0445\u043e\u043b\u043e\u0434\u043a\u043e\u043c,<\/p>\n
\u0418 \u0441\u0442\u0440\u0430\u043d\u0430 \u0431\u0435\u0440\u0451\u0437\u043e\u0432\u043e\u0433\u043e \u0441\u0438\u0442\u0446\u0430<\/p>\n
\u041d\u0435 \u0437\u0430\u043c\u0430\u043d\u0438\u0442 \u0448\u043b\u044f\u0442\u044c\u0441\u044f \u0431\u043e\u0441\u0438\u043a\u043e\u043c.
\n <\/p>\n
\u0414\u0443\u0445 \u0431\u0440\u043e\u0434\u044f\u0436\u0438\u0439, \u0442\u044b \u0432\u0441\u0451 \u0440\u0435\u0436\u0435, \u0440\u0435\u0436\u0435<\/p>\n
\u0420\u0430\u0441\u0448\u0435\u0432\u0435\u043b\u0438\u0432\u0430\u0435\u0448\u044c \u043f\u043b\u0430\u043c\u0435\u043d\u044c \u0443\u0441\u0442.<\/p>\n
\u041e \u043c\u043e\u044f \u0443\u0442\u0440\u0430\u0447\u0435\u043d\u043d\u0430\u044f \u0441\u0432\u0435\u0436\u0435\u0441\u0442\u044c,<\/p>\n
\u0411\u0443\u0439\u0441\u0442\u0432\u043e \u0433\u043b\u0430\u0437 \u0438 \u043f\u043e\u043b\u043e\u0432\u043e\u0434\u044c\u0435 \u0447\u0443\u0432\u0441\u0442\u0432.
\n <\/p>\n
\u042f \u0442\u0435\u043f\u0435\u0440\u044c \u0441\u043a\u0443\u043f\u0435\u0435 \u0441\u0442\u0430\u043b \u0432 \u0436\u0435\u043b\u0430\u043d\u044c\u044f\u0445,<\/p>\n
\u0416\u0438\u0437\u043d\u044c \u043c\u043e\u044f, \u0438\u043b\u044c \u0442\u044b \u043f\u0440\u0438\u0441\u043d\u0438\u043b\u0430\u0441\u044c \u043c\u043d\u0435?<\/p>\n
\u0421\u043b\u043e\u0432\u043d\u043e \u044f \u0432\u0435\u0441\u0435\u043d\u043d\u0435\u0439 \u0433\u0443\u043b\u043a\u043e\u0439 \u0440\u0430\u043d\u044c\u044e<\/p>\n
\u041f\u0440\u043e\u0441\u043a\u0430\u043a\u0430\u043b \u043d\u0430 \u0440\u043e\u0437\u043e\u0432\u043e\u043c \u043a\u043e\u043d\u0435.
\n <\/p>\n
\u0412\u0441\u0435 \u043c\u044b, \u0432\u0441\u0435 \u043c\u044b \u0432 \u044d\u0442\u043e\u043c \u043c\u0438\u0440\u0435 \u0442\u043b\u0435\u043d\u043d\u044b,<\/p>\n
\u0422\u0438\u0445\u043e \u043b\u044c\u0451\u0442\u0441\u044f \u0441 \u043a\u043b\u0451\u043d\u043e\u0432 \u043b\u0438\u0441\u0442\u044c\u0435\u0432 \u043c\u0435\u0434\u044c\u2026<\/p>\n
\u0411\u0443\u0434\u044c \u0436\u0435 \u0442\u044b \u0432\u043e\u0432\u0435\u043a \u0431\u043b\u0430\u0433\u043e\u0441\u043b\u043e\u0432\u0435\u043d\u043d\u043e,<\/p>\n
\u0427\u0442\u043e \u043f\u0440\u0438\u0448\u043b\u043e \u043f\u0440\u043e\u0446\u0432\u0435\u0441\u0442\u044c \u0438 \u0443\u043c\u0435\u0440\u0435\u0442\u044c.<\/p>\n
1921
\n <\/p>\n
\u041f\u0435\u0440\u0435\u0432\u043e\u0434 \u0414\u0430\u043d\u0438\u044d\u043b\u044f \u0412\u0430\u0439\u0441\u0431\u043e\u0440\u0442\u0430<\/strong> All passes, like smoke off the white apple trees.<\/p>\n Autumn\u2019s gold has me in its withering grip.<\/p>\n I shall never be young again. My heart has felt the chill,<\/p>\n It no longer beats as it once did.<\/p>\n The birch woods cotton print<\/p>\n No more tempts me to roam barefoot. Spirit of wandering, less and less<\/p>\n Do you stir my lips\u2019 flame.<\/p>\n Oh, my lost freshness, storminess<\/p>\n Of eye, passion\u2019s flood time. Oh life, do my desires<\/p>\n Grow tamer, or was it all a dream?<\/p>\n As though, in spring\u2019s echoing early hours,<\/p>\n I had galloped by on a pink steed. We are all mortal. Silently<\/p>\n The maples spill the copper of their leaves.<\/p>\n May you be blessed for evermore<\/p>\n That you came\u2014to flourish and to die. \u041f\u0435\u0440\u0435\u0432\u043e\u0434 \u041a\u0440\u0438\u0441\u0442\u0438\u043d\u044b \u0413\u0440\u0438\u043d\u0435\u043d\u043a\u043e<\/strong> Touch my heart like blossoms touch a tree<\/p>\n Withering with autumn, I will never<\/p>\n Be the young man that I used to be You, my heart, are slowing down already<\/p>\n As you\u2019re freezing inch by inch inside<\/p>\n Barefooted, wild me \u2014 how upsetting! \u2014<\/p>\n Won\u2019t be running in the countryside Wanderlust! my passion and my nature,<\/p>\n You don\u2019t make me tremble with delight<\/p>\n Like you used to. Now I lost my features<\/p>\n Laughing eyes and feelings running wild I don\u2019t feel like having plans, desires<\/p>\n Did I have a life or did I dream?<\/p>\n I was merely chasing early sunrise<\/p>\n Rapid ride at dawn, that\u2019s what it seemed. We are mortal, we were born to perish<\/p>\n Copper leaves are falling with no sound<\/p>\n Once it came to blossom, to be cherished \u2014<\/p>\n Blessed, returning to the silent ground. \u041f\u0435\u0440\u0435\u0432\u043e\u0434 \u0410\u043b\u0435\u043a\u0430 \u0412\u0430\u0433\u0430\u043f\u043e\u0432\u0430<\/strong> All, like haze off apple-trees, must pass.<\/p>\n Turning gold, I’m fading, it appears,<\/p>\n I will not be young again, alas. Having got to know the touch of coolness<\/p>\n I will not feel, as before, so good.<\/p>\n And the land of birch trees, — oh my goodness!-<\/p>\n Cannot make me wander barefoot. Vagrant’s spirit! You do not so often<\/p>\n Stir the fire of my lips these days.<\/p>\n Oh my freshness, that begins to soften!<\/p>\n Oh my lost emotions, vehement gaze! Presently I do not feel a yearning,<\/p>\n Oh, my life! Have I been sleeping fast?<\/p>\n Well, it feels like early in the morning<\/p>\n On a rosy horse I’ve galloped past. We are all to perish, hoping for some favour,<\/p>\n Copper leaves flow slowly down and sway…<\/p>\n May you be redeemed and blessed for ever,<\/p>\n You who came to bloom and pass away… No regret I feel, no pain, no sorrow,<\/p>\n Blossom blows away, a song is sung.<\/p>\n Overcome by autumn gold, tomorrow<\/p>\n I myself shall be no longer young. You’ll not throb, heart, as before, but tremble,<\/p>\n Feeling chills that you have not yet known.<\/p>\n In bare feet you shall no more be tempted<\/p>\n Through the birch-print countryside to roam. Roving spirit, ever now less often<\/p>\n Do you rouse a flame upon my lips.<\/p>\n Freshness I have lost, keen looks forgotten,<\/p>\n Feelings running at full flood I miss. I’m austerer now in my desiring.<\/p>\n Life, were you real, or of fancy born?<\/p>\n It’s as if in spring I’ve been out riding<\/p>\n On a pink horse in the vibrant dawn. In this world of ours we all are mortal,<\/p>\n Copper leaves from maples gently slide…<\/p>\n Ever blest was I to be accorded<\/p>\n Time for blossoming before I died. \u041f\u0435\u0440\u0435\u0432\u043e\u0434 \u041f\u0438\u0442\u0435\u0440\u0430 \u0422\u0435\u043c\u043f\u0435\u0441\u0442\u0430<\/strong> Blossom blows away, a song is sung.<\/p>\n Overcome by autumn gold, tomorrow<\/p>\n I myself shall be no longer young. You’ll not throb, heart, as before, but tremble,<\/p>\n Feeling chills that you have not yet known.<\/p>\n In bare feet you shall no more be tempted<\/p>\n Through the birch-print countryside to roam. Roving spirit, ever now less often<\/p>\n Do you rouse a flame upon my lips.<\/p>\n Freshness I have lost, keen looks forgotten,<\/p>\n Feelings running at full flood I miss. I’m austerer now in my desiring.<\/p>\n Life, were you real, or of fancy born?<\/p>\n It’s as if in spring I’ve been out riding<\/p>\n On a pink horse in the vibrant dawn. In this world of ours we all are mortal,<\/p>\n Copper leaves from maples gently slide…<\/p>\n Ever blest was I to be accorded<\/p>\n Time for blossoming before I died. \u041f\u0435\u0440\u0435\u0432\u043e\u0434 \u0410\u043d\u0442\u043e\u043d\u0430 \u042f\u043a\u043e\u0432\u043b\u0435\u0432\u0430<\/strong> All will pass like smoke from white apple trees.<\/p>\n Overcome with the gold of wilting,<\/p>\n I won\u2019t be young anymore. Touched with cold, you will no longer<\/p>\n Beat in the same way, heart,<\/p>\n And the land of birch chintz<\/p>\n Won\u2019t tempt me to gallivant barefoot. Nomadic spirit! Less and less<\/p>\n You stoke the flame of my lips.<\/p>\n O my lost freshness,<\/p>\n Mayhem of eyes and deluge of feelings! These days I\u2019m stingier in my desires,<\/p>\n My life \u2014 or did I dream you?<\/p>\n I might as well have galloped on a pink steed<\/p>\n On a sonorous early spring morning. All of us, all of us will perish;<\/p>\n Quietly, copper leaves pour from maples…<\/p>\n Therefore, blessed be, forever,<\/p>\n Everything that\u2019s come to bloom and to die. \u041f\u0435\u0440\u0435\u0432\u043e\u0434 \u0414\u0436\u0435\u0444\u0444\u0440\u0438 \u0422\u0443\u0440\u043b\u0438<\/strong> All things pass, like smoke from the apple wood.<\/p>\n Consumed now by withering\u2019s gold,<\/p>\n My youth has passed away for good. And you shall beat like that no more<\/p>\n O heart, caught in the grip of cold.<\/p>\n Nor will the birch-tree country lure<\/p>\n My bare feet wandering as of old. Ah, wanderlust, rarely, rarely<\/p>\n You agitate my mouths\u2019 flame now.<\/p>\n And oh, my squandered innocence,<\/p>\n The bright eye and the fevered brow! A miser now with my desires,<\/p>\n O life, \u2014 or did I dream of you?<\/p>\n As if through early spring-time fires<\/p>\n On a pink horse I galloped through. We shall all perish, and the bronze<\/p>\n Fades silently from maple-leaves.<\/p>\n Then let us feel forever blessed,<\/p>\n Just that we chanced to flower, and died.
\n
\nI do not regret, complain, or weep,<\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n
\nNo regrets, no cries, no pain will ever<\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n
\nI do not regret, and I do not shed tears,<\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n
\nNo regret I feel, no pain, no sorrow,<\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n
\nI don\u2019t regret, I don\u2019t call, I don\u2019t cry.<\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n
\nI will not weep, regret or scold.<\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n
\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":23910,"parent":0,"template":"","translations-type":[],"class_list":["post-23908","translations","type-translations","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/eastwestliteraryforum.com\/rus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/translations\/23908","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/eastwestliteraryforum.com\/rus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/translations"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/eastwestliteraryforum.com\/rus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/translations"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/eastwestliteraryforum.com\/rus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/translations\/23908\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25027,"href":"https:\/\/eastwestliteraryforum.com\/rus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/translations\/23908\/revisions\/25027"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eastwestliteraryforum.com\/rus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/23910"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/eastwestliteraryforum.com\/rus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=23908"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"translations-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/eastwestliteraryforum.com\/rus\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/translations-type?post=23908"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}