***
Твои беспечные создания,
Те семикрылые рабы,
Что денно, нощно мирозданье
Ваяют из пустой руды,
Сегодня выдохлись и сели
На плечи мне, глаза прикрыв.
Умолк и демон мой, что мелет
Святую блажь в простой мотив.
И тишина как покрывалом
Объяла сущности во мгле.
Так золото первоначала
Горит и плавится во мне.
Октябрь 2020
***
Your carefree, winged thralls of seven,
Those tireless slaves of day and night,
Still forge the cosmos up in heaven
From empty ore in sacred light.
But now they falter, drained and hollow,
And rest upon my shoulders bare,
While even my own demon, sallow,
Falls silent in his pious prayer.
And silence, like a cloak, is folding
Around all beings sunk in shade—
As primal gold, in me upholding,
Now burns and melts, yet does not fade.
October 2020
Translated into English by Grok
My reading of this poem:
Listen to the song written in Suno with these lyrics here.
