I’ve got a body and what can I do?
It is so one, so mine, it is so true.
Who should I thank, tell me, and who did give
Me quite joy to breathe, quite joy to live?
I am the gardener, I’m the flower, yes,
I’m not alone in cave of world, I guess.
And there’s my breath, I see, there is my warmth
On glass of eternal, they lie on it, of course.
The pattern’ll be imprinted on the glass
Unrecognizable since now, I must confess,
Let moment flows and drains, it doesn’t hurt,
I know, dear pattern can’t be ever blurred.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Osip Mandelstam
Categories:
mandelstam, emotions, feelings, life, metaphor,
Form: Lyric
Gold leaf is burning very bright
on Christmas trees and bush is hiding
toy wolves, they're looking through the night
with eerily eyes, their look is biting.
Oh, my prophetic tiresome grief,
oh, quite freedom of my ego
and empty sky that cannot live
with laughing crystal in vertigo.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Osip Mandelstam
Categories:
mandelstam, emotions, feelings, metaphor, poets,
Form: Lyric
Softer than tenderness
your pretty face,
More white than white, of course,
your little hand,
It's far from world your walls
and native land,
It's unavoidable
your sweety bliss.
From sweety bliss, of course,
you are so sad,
And fingers these are warm,
they are so warm,
And quiet sound and tone,
speeches are unworn,
And distant eyes of yours
within my head.
P.S. This is my translation of poem by Osip Mandelstam
Categories:
mandelstam, assonance, emotions, feelings, poets,
Form: Lyric