Translate to:

worlds fly. year fly. empty
The universe looks at us with darkness eyes.
And you, душа, усталая, deaf,
At schastyy tverdysh, - again?

that happiness? evening cool
In the darkening garden, in the backwoods?
Ile gloomy vicious delight
wine, passions, the death of the soul?

that happiness? A brief moment and close,
oblivion, sleep and rest from the cares ...
Wake up - re mad, unknown
And his heart rending flight ...

sigh, look - the danger has passed ...
But at this very moment - push again!
Launched somewhere, hit or miss,
flies, humming, hurry to top!

AND, clinging to the edge of the slide, acute,
And listening is always buzzing ringing, –
Do we go mad in motley change
to come up with reasons, spaces, time?

When will it stop? intrusive sound
I will not force without end ...
How terrible to all! wildly! - Give me your hand,
friend, friend! forget again.

Most read verses Chukovsky:


All poetry (content alphabetically)

Leave a Reply