See what a “Shakespearean sonnet” is in other dictionaries. William Shakespeare: Sonnets translated by C

William Shakespeare

SONNETS
translated by S. Ya. Marshak

We expect a harvest from the best vines,
So that beauty lives without fading.
Let the petals of ripened roses wither,
The young rose keeps their memory.

And you, in love with your beauty,
Giving all the best juices to her,
You turn abundance into poverty, -
Your worst enemy, soulless and cruel.

You are the decoration of today,
Herald of short-lived spring, -
The future is buried in its infancy,
You combine stinginess with waste.

Sparing the world, do not consign it to the ground
Have a wonderful harvest in the coming years!

When your forehead is furrowed
Deep traces of forty winters,
Who will remember the royal outfit,
Disdaining your pathetic rubbish?

And to the question: “Where are they hiding now?
Remnants of beauty have fun years?" -
What do you say? At the bottom of faded eyes?
But your answer will be an evil mockery.

More worthy words would be:
"Look at my children.
My former freshness is alive in them,
They are the justification for my old age."

Let the blood run cold over the years
It burns again in your heir!

You see a beautiful face in the mirror,
And if you don’t hurry to repeat
You will offend your features, your nature,
You will deprive a woman of her blessing.

What mortal wouldn't be happy
Should I give you the untouched new one?
Or you don’t need immortality, -
How great is your love for yourself?

For mother's eyes you are a reflection
Long gone April days.
And you will find consolation in old age
In the same windows of your youth.

But, having limited life to my destiny,
You yourself will die, and your image will be with you.

Dear embezzler, you are wasting
Your inheritance in an extravagant riot.
Nature does not give us beauty,
But he lends - free to free.

Adorable miser, you are glad to appropriate
What is given to you for transmission.
Countless you hide a treasure,
Without becoming richer for it.

You make deals with yourself
Depriving yourself of the profits of the rich.
And at the terrible hour appointed by fate,
What account will you give of your waste?

With you is the image of future times,
Unincarnate, will be buried.

Stealing time with subtle skill
Creates a magical feast for the eyes.
And the same time in circular running
It takes away everything that made us happy.

Hours and days an unstoppable flow
Summer leads into the darkness of winter days,
Where there is no foliage, the sap has frozen in the trees,
The earth is dead and there is a white cloak on it.

And only the aroma of blooming roses -
A flying prisoner locked in glass -
Reminds me of cold and cold weather
About the fact that summer was on earth.

The flowers have lost their former shine,
But they retained the soul of beauty.

Make sure you have a tough hand
I haven’t visited the garden through gray winter,
Until you collect flowers, until
You cannot pour spring into a crystal vial.

As a man, what a precious contribution
I received it back in abundance,
You will be glad to get yourself back
With legitimate profits tenfold.

You will live in the world ten times,
Repeated ten times in children,
And you will have the right at your last hour
To triumph over conquered death.

You are too generously gifted by fate,
May perfection die with you.

Flaming head dawn
He rises from his bed,
And everything on earth sends him greetings,
Radiant meeting the deity.

When in the prime of life, at noon hour,
The luminary looks from a steep height, -
With what delight millions of eyes
Watch the golden chariot!

When does the sun complete its circle?
And rolls wearily into the sunset,
The eyes of his admirers and servants
They are already looking in the other direction.

Leave your son, bury your youth.
He will meet the sun of tomorrow!

You are music, but to musical sounds
You listen with incomprehensible melancholy.
Why do you love something that is so sad?
Do you meet torment with such joy?

Where is the secret reason for this torment?
Isn't that why you're overcome with sadness?
What harmoniously coordinated sounds
Do they sound like a reproach to loneliness?

Listen to how friendly the strings are
They get into formation and give their voice, -
As if mother, father and young boy
They sing in happy unity.

The agreement of the strings in a concert tells us,
That the lonely path is like death.

Probably, fearing widow's tears,
You have not tied yourself to anyone with love.
But if a terrible fate took you away,
The whole world would put on a widow's veil.

In her child, a mournful widow
Favorite traits are reflected.
And you don't leave the creature,
In which the light would find solace.

The wealth that the spendthrift squanders
Changing place, remains in the world.
And beauty will flash without a trace,
And youth, having disappeared, will not return.

Who betrays himself -
Doesn't love anyone in this world!

Tell me honestly: who do you love?
You know, many people love you.
But so carelessly you ruin your youth,
What is clear to everyone is that you live without loving.

Your fierce enemy, not knowing regret,
You destroy secretly day after day
Magnificent, waiting for renewal,
The house you have inherited.

Change - and I will forgive the insult,
Warm up love in your soul, not enmity.
Be as gentle as you are beautiful in appearance,
And become more generous and kind to yourself.

Let beauty live not only now,
But he will repeat himself in his beloved son.

We wither quickly - just as we grow.
We grow in descendants, in a new harvest.
Excess of strength in your heir
Consider it yours, cooling down over the years.

This is the law of wisdom and beauty.
And without him they would have reigned in the world
Madness, old age until the end of time
And the world would disappear in six decades.

Let the one who is not dear to life and earth -
Faceless, rude - perishes irrevocably.
And you received such gifts,
That you can return them many times.

You're carved as skillfully as a seal
To convey your imprint to centuries.

When the clock tells me it's light
Will soon drown in the menacing darkness of the night,
When the violets fade their tender color
And the dark curl shines with gray hair,

When the leaves rush along the roads,
In the midday heat, she kept herds,
And he nods to us from the funeral dredges
Thick beard of gray sheaves, -

I think about your beauty
About the fact that she will have to bloom,
Like all the flowers of forests, meadows, fields,
Where the new is preparing to grow.

But if the sickle of death is inexorable,
Leave descendants to argue with him!

Don't change, be yourself.
You can be yourself as long as you live.
When death destroys your image,
Let there be someone like you.

Beauty is given to you by nature
For a very short period of time, and therefore
Let her rightfully pass
To your direct heir.

A beautiful home in caring hands
Will not flinch before the onslaught of winter,
And will never reign in it
The breath of death, cold and darkness.

Oh, may when your end comes,
The words sound: “I had a father!”

I don't guess fate by the stars,
And astronomy won't tell me
What stars are in the sky for the harvest,
To plague, fire, famine, war.

I don't know if it's bad weather or bad weather
The calendar promises winter and summer,
And I can’t judge by the firmament,
How happier will the sovereign be?

But I see a harbinger in your eyes,
I will know by the unchanging stars,
That truth and beauty will be together,
When you extend your life to your descendants.

And if not, under the gravestone
Truth will disappear along with beauty.

When I think that the moment is one
Growth separates from withering,
That this world is a stage, where are the paintings
Replaced by the magic of the stars,

That we are like the shoots of tender plants,
The same heavens grow and destroy,
That spring juice ferments in us from a young age,
But our strength and beauty fades, -

Oh, how I treasure your spring,
Your beautiful youth in bloom.
And time is at war with you
And your clear day turns into darkness.

But let my verse be like a sharp garden knife,
Your age will be renewed with a new graft.

But if time threatens us with a siege,
Then why in the prime of his life
You won't protect your youth with a fence
More reliable than my barren verse?

You have reached the pinnacle of the earthly path,
And so many young virgin hearts
We are ready to repeat your gentle appearance,
How a brush or chisel will not repeat it.

This is how life will correct everything that has been mutilated.
And if you give yourself to love,
She will rather immortalize you,
Than this fugitive, fragile pencil.

By giving yourself, you will preserve forever
Oneself in a new creation - in man.

How can I convince you of your virtues?
Those who will my page reach?
But God knows that this humble verse
Can't say more than the tomb.

Try to leave your portrait
Depict the wonderful gaze in verse, -
The descendant will only say: “The poet is lying,
Giving the face of the earth heavenly light!

And this old, yellowed leaf
He will reject him like a gray-haired chatterbox,
Saying casually: “The old rogue is talkative,
There’s not a word of truth in his speeches!”

But if your son lives to see these days,
You would live in it, as in my stanza.

Shall I compare your features to a summer day?
But you are nicer, more moderate and more beautiful.
The storm breaks the May flowers,
And our summer is so short-lived!

Then the heavenly eye blinds us,
That bright face is hidden by bad weather.
Caresses, undead and torments us
Nature's random whim.

And your day does not diminish,
The sunny summer does not fade.
And a mortal shadow will not hide you -
You will live forever in the poet's lines.

You will be among the living as long as
As long as the chest breathes and the gaze sees.

You dull, oh time, the claws of the lion,
Tear fangs from the leopard's mouth,
Turn earthly creatures to dust
And burn the phoenix in his blood.

Winter, summer, autumn, spring
Replace smiles with tears, and when we cry, replace them with laughter.
Do whatever you want with the world and with me, -
I forbid sin only for you.

Chelo, cheeks of my friend
Do not furrow with your dull incisor.
May his features be beautiful
They will serve as a model for all times.

And if you don’t feel sorry for his cheeks,
My poem will keep him beautiful!

The face of a woman, but stricter, more perfect
Nature has been sculpted by skill.
You are beautiful as a woman, but you are a stranger to treason,
The king and queen of my heart.

Your tender gaze is devoid of crafty games,
But it gilds everything around with a gilded glow.
He is courageous and majestic in power
It captivates friends and destroys girlfriends.

The nature of you as a dear woman
I conceived it, but was captivated by passion,
She separated me from you,
And she made women happy.

So be it. But here's my condition:
Love me, and give them love.

I don’t compete with the creators of odes,
Which painted goddesses
The sky is presented as a gift
With all the earth and ocean blue.

Let them decorate the stanzas
They repeat in verse, arguing among themselves,
About the stars of the sky, about wreaths of flowers,
About the treasures of earth and sea.

In love and in words - truth is my law,
And I write that my dear is beautiful,
Like everyone who is born of a mortal mother,
And not like the sun or a clear month.

I don’t want to praise my love, -
I'm not selling it to anyone!

Mirrors lie - what an old man I am!
I share your youth with you.
But if the days furrow your face,
I will know that I am defeated by fate.

Like in a mirror, looking at your features,
I seem younger to myself.
You give me a young heart,
And I give you mine too.

Try to protect yourself -
Not for yourself: you keep the heart of a friend.
And I am ready, like a loving mother,
Protect yours from grief and illness.

Our two hearts have the same destiny:
Mine will die and yours will die!

Like that actor who, timidly,
Loses the thread of a long-familiar role,
Like that madman who, falling into anger,
In excess of strength, he loses his willpower, -

So I remain silent, not knowing what to say,
Not because my heart grew cold.
No, it puts a seal on my lips
My love that has no limits.

So let the book speak to you.
Let her, my silent intercessor,
Coming to you with confession and prayer
And a fair one demands retribution.

Will you read the words of silent love?
Will you hear my voice with your eyes?

My eye became an engraver and your image
Imprinted truthfully on my chest.
Since then I have served as a living frame,
And the best thing about art is perspective.

Look through the master at the skill,
To see your portrait in this frame.
The workshop that keeps it,
Glazed with beloved eyes.

My eyes are so friendly with yours,
I paint you with mine in my soul.
Through yours from heavenly heights
The sun peeks into the workshop.

Alas, to my eyes through the window
It is not possible to see your heart.

Who was born under a happy star -
Proud of fame, title and power.
And I was more modestly rewarded by fate,
And for me love is a source of happiness.

Leaves spread lushly under the sun
The prince's confidant, the nobleman's protégé.
But the sun's benevolent gaze goes out,
And the golden sunflower goes out too.

Military leader, darling of victories,
In battle he is the last to be defeated,
And all trace of his merits is lost.
His destiny is disgrace and oblivion.

But there is no threat to my titles
Lifelong: loved, loved, loved.

An obedient tributary, loyal to the king,
I, moved by respectful love,
I am sending a written embassy to you,
Devoid of beauty and wit.

I did not find words worthy of you.
But if you appreciate true feelings,
You are these poor and naked ambassadors
Dress with your imagination.

Or maybe the constellations that lead
Me ahead on an unknown road,
Will give unexpected shine and glory
My fate, unknown and miserable.

Then I will show my love,
And for the time being I melt it in the darkness.

Exhausted from work, I want to sleep,
Find blissful rest in bed.
But as soon as I lie down, I hit the road again -
In your dreams - towards the same goal.

My dreams and feelings for the hundredth time
They are coming to you on the pilgrim's road,
And, without closing tired eyes,
I see darkness that is visible to the blind.

With the diligent gaze of the heart and mind
I look for you in the darkness, deprived of sight.
And the darkness seems magnificent,
When you enter it as a light shadow.

I can't find peace from love.
Day and night - I'm always on the go.

How can I overcome fatigue?
When am I deprived of the goodness of peace?
The worries of the day are not alleviated by the night,
And the night, like the day, torments me with longing.

And day and night are enemies among themselves -
It’s as if they are shaking hands with each other.
I work during the day, rejected by fate,
And at night I don’t sleep, sad in separation.

To win over the dawn,
I compared a fine day with you
And on the dark night he sent greetings,
Having said that the stars look like you.

But my next day is more and more difficult,
And the shadow of the coming night gets darker and darker.

When at odds with the world and fate,
Remembering the years full of adversity,
I disturb you with fruitless prayer
Deaf and indifferent firmament

And, complaining about the woeful lot,
Ready to change my lot
With the one who is more successful in art,
Rich in hope and loved by people, -

Then, suddenly remembering you,
I curse the pathetic cowardice,
And as a lark, contrary to fate,
My soul rushes to the heights.

With your love, with the memory of her
I am stronger than all the kings in the world.

When the judgment of silent, secret thoughts
I call forth the voices of the past, -
Losses keep coming to my mind
And I suffer from the old pain again.

From eyes that have never known tears, I shed tears
About those whom the grave hides in darkness,
I'm looking for my lost love
And everything in life seemed sweet to me.

I'm keeping count of what I've lost
And again I am horrified by the loss of each,
And again I pay dearly
For what I paid for once already!

But I find the past in you
And I’m ready to forgive everything to my fate.

In your chest I hear all the hearts
What I thought was hidden in the graves.
In the beautiful features of your face
There is a reflection of faces that were once dear to the heart.

I shed many tears over them,
Bowing down at the gravestone.
But, apparently, fate took them away for a while -
And now we meet again.

They found their last refuge in you
Faces that are close and memorable to me,
And everyone bows to you
A wasted particle of my love.

I find everyone dear in you
And I belong entirely to you - to them all.

Oh, if you survive that day,
When death covers me like a board,
And you will quickly re-read these lines,
Written by a friendly hand, -

Will you compare me and the youth?
Her art will be twice as high.
But let me be nice
The fact that during my life I was full of you.

After all, if I had not fallen behind on the way, -
With the growing age I could grow
And the best would bring dedications
Among singers of a different generation.

But since they argue with the dead, -
There is love in me, appreciate the skill in them!

I watched the sun rise
Caresses the mountains with a benevolent gaze,
Then he sends a smile to the green meadows
And gilds the surface of the pale waters.

But the firmament often allows
Clouds loiter in front of the light throne.
They crawl over a darkened world,
Depriving the earth of royal bounties.

So my sun rose for an hour,
Generously showering me with gifts.
A gloomy, blind cloud crept up,
And the tender light of my love faded away.

But I do not complain about the sad lot, -
There are clouds on earth, as there are in the sky.

I was promised a brilliant day,
And without a cloak I left my house.
But the shadow of the clouds caught up with me,
A storm came with hail and rain.

Let him then, breaking through from behind the clouds,
Touched my forehead tenderly,
Beaten by the rain, your gentle ray, -
You couldn't heal my wounds.

I'm not happy about your sadness
Your repentance is no fun.
The offender's sympathy is hardly
Heals ulcers of burning resentment.

But your tears, streams of pearl tears,
Like a downpour, all your sins have been washed away!

Don't be sad when you admit your guilt.
There is no rose without thorns; the purest key
The grains of sand are muddy; sun and moon
Hides the shadow of an eclipse or clouds.

We are all sinners, and I am no less than everyone else
I sin in any of these bitter lines,
Justifying sin with comparisons,
Lawlessly forgiving your vice.

I come to court as a defender,
To serve the enemy side.
My love and hate lead
An internecine war within me.

Even though you robbed me, dear thief,
But I share your sin and sentence.

I confess that you and I are two,
Although in love we are one being.
I don't want my vice to be any
It fell on your honor like a stain.

Let one thread connect us in love,
But in life we ​​have different bitterness.
She can't change love
But it steals from love an hour an hour.

As a convict, I am deprived of my rights
To openly recognize you in front of everyone,
And you cannot accept my bow,
So that your honor will not be stamped.

Well, let it be!.. I love you so much.
That I am all yours and share your honor!

How happy his father is in his declining days
Heirs of young courage,
So. by your righteousness and glory
I admire, ingloriously fading.

Generosity, nobility, beauty,
And a sharp mind, and strength, and health -
Almost every feature of you
Sent to me with your love.

I'm not poor, I'm not weak, I'm not alone,
And the shadow of love that falls over me,
The flow of such bounties brings with it,
That I live as one piece of it.

All I can wish for you is
Descends from you like grace.

Is the muse missing a theme?
When can you give so much?
Wonderful thoughts that we don't all have
Worthy of repeating on paper.

And if sometimes I'm worth something,
Thank yourself.
He is struck by mental muteness,
Who will not say anything in your honor.

For us you will be the tenth muse
And ten times more beautiful than the rest,
So that poems born once upon a time
I could survive the verse you inspired.

Let future generations glorify
For our efforts, for your inspiration.

Oh, how I will sing your praises,
When are you and I one being?
You can’t glorify your beauty,
You can't praise yourself.

That's why we exist apart,
So that I appreciate the charm of beauty
And so that you get to hear
Praise that only you deserve.

Separation is hard on us, like an illness,
But at times it's a lonely road
Leisure gives the happiest dreams
And allows time to deceive.

Separation divides the heart in half,
To make it easier for us to glorify our friend.

Take all my passions, all my loves, -
You will gain little from this.
Everything that people call love,
It already belonged to you.

I don’t blame you, my friend,
That you own what I own.
No, I only reproach you for one thing,
That you neglected my love.

You deprived a beggar of his bag.
But I forgave the captivating thief.
We endure insults from love
Harder than the poison of open discord.

O you, whose evil seems good to me.
Kill me, but don't be my enemy!

Careless grievances of youth,
What are you doing to me without knowing?
When I am not in your consciousness, -
Befits your years, your features.

Friendly, you are surrounded by flattery,
Good-looking - you are open to temptation.
And before the caress of sophisticated wives
The woman's son can hardly resist.

But it’s a pity that there is an abundance of youthful strength
You didn't bypass me
And he did not spare those heart ties,
Where I had to break my double duty.

Captivating the unfaithful with her beauty,
You took the truth from me twice.

Half the trouble is that you own it,
But to realize and see that she
Owns you - it hurts me twice as much.
The loss of your love is terrible to me.

I myself came up with an excuse for you:
By loving me, you loved her.
And my darling gives you a date
Because you are infinitely dear to me.

And if I need to lose, -
I give my losses to you:
My beloved friend found her love,
My beloved has found your love.

But if a friend and I are one and the same,
Then, as before, I am the most dear to her...

Closing my eyelids, I see more sharply.
Opening my eyes, I look without noticing,
But the dark gaze of my eyes is bright,
When in a dream I turn them to you.

And if the night shadow is so bright -
Your vague shadow reflection, -
How great is your light on a radiant day,
How much brighter reality is than a dream!

What happiness it would be for me -
Waking up in the morning and seeing with your own eyes
That clear face in the rays of the living day,
That the light shone for me on a foggy dead night.

A day without you seemed like night to me,
And I saw the day at night in a dream.

When would this flesh become a thought,
Oh, how easy it is, in spite of fate,
I could overcome the distance
And at that very moment I will be transported to you.

If I were in any of the distant countries,
I would pass far away lands.
Thoughts cross the ocean
With the speed with which the goal is outlined.

Let my soul be fire and spirit,
But behind the dream born in the brain,
I, created from the elements of two -
Land with water - I can’t keep up.

Earth, I am forever rooted to the earth,
Water, - I shed streams of bitter tears.

The other two foundations of the universe are
Fire and air are lighter.
Breath of thought and fire of desire
I am sending to you, in spite of space.

When they are two free elements -
An embassy of love will fly to you,
The rest stay with me
And they weigh heavily on my soul.

I'm sad, deprived of balance,
While the elements of spirit and fire
They won’t rush back to me with news,
That my friend is healthy and remembers me.

How happy I am!.. But again in a moment
Thoughts and aspirations fly towards you.

My eye to the heart has been in the struggle for a long time:
They can't divide you.
My eye demands your image for itself,
But he wants to hide his heart in his heart.

The true heart swears that you
You are kept in it invisible to the eye.
And the eye is sure that your features
He keeps it in his clean mirror.

To resolve an internecine dispute,
Thoughts gathered at the court table
And they decided to reconcile the clear gaze
And dear heart forever.

They divided the treasure into parts,
Trusting the heart to the heart, the look - the look.

The heart and the eye have a secret agreement:
They ease each other's pain,
When the eye searches for you in vain
And the heart suffocates in separation.

Your image is a keen eye
Gives your heart plenty to admire.
And the heart to the eye at its appointed hour
Love's dreams give way.

So in my thoughts or in the flesh
You are in front of me in any moment.
You can go no further than your thoughts.
I am inseparable from her, she is inseparable from you.

My gaze pictures you even in my dreams
And awakens the heart sleeping inside me.

Carefully preparing for a long journey,
I locked the trinkets
To encroach on my wealth
Some uninvited guest could not.

And you, who do I need? more life sorry,
Before whom even gold is shiny rubbish,
My joy and my sorrow
Any thief can kidnap you.

In what casket should I hide the deity?
To keep you locked up forever?
Where, if not in the secret of my heart,
Where you are always free to leave.

I'm afraid you can't hide a diamond there either,
Tempting for the most honest eyes!

On that dark day (let it pass us by!)
When you see all my vices,
When you run out of patience
And you will announce a cruel sentence to me,

When, having come together with me in the crowd of people,
You can barely give me a clear look,
And I will see cold and peace
In your face, still beautiful, -

On that day my grief will be helped
The knowledge that I'm not worth you
And I will raise my hand in oath,
Justifying everything by being wrong.

You have the right to leave me, my friend,
And I have no merit for happiness.

How hard it is for me, kicking up dust on the way,
Without expecting anything further,
Counting sadly how many miles
I drove away from my happiness.

A tired horse, having forgotten its former agility,
Barely cowards lazily under me, -
As if he knows: there is no need to rush
To those who are separated from their dear soul.

He doesn't listen to his master's spurs
And only by neighing does he send me his reproach.
This moan hurts me more,
What a poor horse - the blows of the spurs.

I think, looking longingly into the distance:
Behind me is joy, ahead is sadness.

So I justified my intolerable temper
Stubborn, lazy horse,
Who was right in his stubbornness,
When he took me into exile at a walking pace.

But it will be an unforgivable sin,
If he's just as lucky back.
Let me ride on a whirlwind,
I would think: how quietly he crawls!

The best horse cannot catch up with desire,
When it gallops with a neigh.
It rushes easily like fire
And he says to the laziest of nags:

You, poor thing, go one step at a time,
And I will rush on wings ahead!

As a rich person, it is available to me at any time
The moment is my treasure.
But I know that the edge is fragile
Happy minutes given to me by fate.

We have holidays, so rare in the year,
They bring with them even more fun.
And rarely located in a row
Other stones are diamonds necklaces.

Let time hide like a casket,
You, my friend, are my precious crown,
But I'm happy when my diamond is captured
It finally releases.

You give me the triumph of a date,
And the trembling joy of anticipation.

What element were you born of?
One by one they all cast shadows,
And a million is hovering behind you
Your shadows, likenesses, reflections.

Let us imagine a portrait of Adonis, -
He is similar to you, like your cheap cast.
In ancient times, the world marveled at Helen.
You - ancient art new image.

Innocent spring and mature year
Stores your appearance, internal and external:
Like harvest time, you are full of bounties,
And the view of the day reminds you of spring.

All that is beautiful we call yours.
But to what can we compare a true heart?

The beautiful is a hundred times more beautiful,
Crowned with precious truth.
We appreciate the aroma of delicate roses,
Living hidden in their purple.

Let the flowers, where vice has built its nest,
And the stem, and the thorns, and the leaves are the same,
And the purple of the petals is just as deep,
And the same corolla that a fresh rose has -

They bloom without pleasing hearts,
And they wither, poisoning our breath.
But fragrant roses have a different ending:

Their soul will be poured into fragrance.

When the shine of your eyes goes out,
All the beauty of the truth will flow into verse.

Mossy marble of royal tombs
Will disappear before these weighty words,
In which I saved your image.
The dust and dirt of centuries will not stick to them.

Let the war topple the statues,
The rebellion will dispel the work of the masons,
But the letters embedded in the memory
The passing centuries will not be erased.

Neither death will drag you to the bottom,
Nor the dark oblivion of enmity.
You and your distant descendants are destined,
Having worn out the world, see the day of judgment.

So, live until you wake up
In poetry, in hearts filled with love!

Wake up love! Is the edge yours?
Duller than the sting of hunger and thirst?
No matter how abundant the food and drink,
You can't get enough once.

So is love. Her hungry look
Today I am quenched to the point of fatigue,
And tomorrow you will be engulfed in fire again,
Born for burning, not decay.

So that love is dear to us,
Let the ocean be the hour of separation,
Let two, going to the shores,
One stretches out their hands to the other.

Let this hour be the winter cold,
May spring warm us warmly!

For faithful servants there is nothing else,
How to wait for the lady at the door.
So, ready to serve your whims,
I spend my time waiting.

I don’t dare scold boredom in my head,
Watching the hands of your watch.
I don’t curse the bitter separation,
I go out the door at your sign.

I don’t allow jealous thoughts
Cross your cherished threshold,
And, poor slave, I consider myself happy
Someone who could spend an hour with you.

Do whatever you want. I lost my sight
And there is not a shadow of suspicion in me.

God forbid, who deprived me of my will,
So that I dare to check your leisure time,
Count the hours and ask: how long?
Servants are not privy to the affairs of masters.

Call me whenever you want
Until then, I will be patient.
My destiny is to wait until you are free,
And restrain reproach or impulse.

Are you indulging in business or fun, -
You yourself are the mistress of your destiny.
And, having committed a crime before yourself, you have the right
Forgive yourself for your guilt.

In the hours of your worries or pleasure
I'm waiting for you in anguish, without judgment...

If there is no novelty in the world,
And there is only a repetition of the past
And we must suffer in vain,
Long-born, giving birth again, -

May our memory run backwards
Five hundred circles that the sun has outlined,
Will be able to find in an ancient book
Your dear face captured in the word.

Then I would know what they thought in those days
About this miracle, difficult to perfect, -
Have we gone ahead, or have they?
Or this world has remained unchanged.

But I believe that the best words
Deities were created in honor of the lesser!

How the sea surf moves towards the land,
So the rows of countless minutes,
Replacing the previous ones,
One by one they run towards eternity.

Infancy newborn sickle
Strives towards maturity and finally
Having experienced damage from crooked eclipses,
Gives up his golden crown in the fight.

The incisor of years on the forehead
Follows the stripe with a stripe.
All the best that breathes on earth,
Lies down under the striking scythe.

But time will not erase my line,
Where will you stay in spite of death!

Is it your fault that your cute image
Doesn't let me close my eyelashes
And standing over my head,
Does it keep heavy eyelids from closing?

Does your soul come in silence?
Check my deeds and thoughts,
To expose all the lies and idleness in me,
Should I measure my whole life as my destiny?

Oh no, your love is not so strong
To appear at my head,
My, my love knows no sleep.
We stand guard with my love.

I can't fall asleep until
You are far from me but close to others.

Self-love controls my gaze.
It penetrated my blood and flesh.
And is there a means on earth by which
Could I overcome this weakness?

It seems to me that there is no equal in beauty,
There is no one more truthful in the world.
It seems to me that I'm worth so much,
Like no other earthly creature.

When by chance in the mirror surface
I see my real image
In the wrinkles of years, looking at this image,
I confess to a fatal mistake.

My friend, I replaced myself with you,
The passing century is a young fate.

About a rainy day when my love
As I now recognize the burden of life,
When the blood becomes scarce over the years
And the smooth brow will cut through time,

When the night comes to an end,
Having passed half a circle, a new luminary
And the sky will lose its colors,
In which the sun just reigned, -

I saved a weapon for a rainy day,
To fight death and oblivion,
So that your favorite image does not fade away,
And he was an example to distant generations.

This weapon is a black line.
All colors in it will survive centuries.

We have seen how time's hand
Tears down everything that time dresses up as,
How the proud tower of the century is demolished
And the copper of a millennium destroys the burden,

Like inch by inch the coastal countries
The swell of the sea covers the earth,
While the land robs the ocean,
Covering the expense with a powerful arrival,

How the cycle of days goes by
And the kingdoms are about to fall...
Everything suggests that the hour will strike -
And time will take away my joy.

And this is death!.. My lot is sad.
What fragile happiness I have mastered!

Well, if copper, granite, land and sea
They will not stand when their time comes,
How can he survive, arguing with death,
Is your beauty a helpless flower?

Oh bitter thought!.. Where, what
Find a refuge for beauty?
Like stopping a pendulum with your hand,
Save color from time to time?..

There is no hope. But the light face is cute
Perhaps black ink will save you!

I call death. I can't bear to see
Dignity that begs for alms
A mocking lie at simplicity,
A nonentity in luxurious attire,
And perfection is a false sentence,
And virginity, rudely abused,
And misplaced honor is a shame,
And power is captured by toothless weakness,
And directness, which is considered stupidity,
And stupidity in the mask of a sage, a prophet,
And inspiration's clamped mouth,
And righteousness in the service of vice.

Everything I see around is disgusting...
But how can I leave you, dear friend!

Ask: why does he live in vices?
To serve as an excuse for dishonor?
To gain honor for sins
And cover up lies with your charm?

Why art dead colors
Are his faces stealing the fire of spring?
Why does beauty seek slyly?
Fake roses, fake jewelry?

Why does Mother Nature keep it?
When she has long been unable to
The fire of shame burns in his cheeks,
Play with the living blood in these veins?

Keep it so that the light knows and remembers
About what was and what is no longer!

His face is one of the reflections
Those days when there is beauty in the world
Blossomed freely, like a spring flower,
And didn’t dress up in false colors,

When no one is in the cemetery fence
I didn’t dare disturb the deathly peace
And give the forgotten golden strand
A second life on the head is different.

His face is friendly and modest.
The lips of counterfeit colors are devoid of color.
In his spring there is no borrowed greenery
And novelty does not rob the old.

Nature preserves it for comparison
Beautiful truth with false decoration.

In that external thing that the gaze finds in you,
There is nothing that I want to fix.
Enmity and friendship are a common verdict
He cannot add a dash to the truth.

For appearance - appearance and honor.
But the voice of the same incorruptible judges
It sounds different when it comes to
About the properties of the heart, inaccessible to the eye.

Rumor speaks about your soul.
And the mirror of the soul is its actions.
And the weeds drown out
The fragrance of your sweetest roses.

Your tender garden is neglected because
That it is available to everyone and no one.

The fact that you are scolded is not your fault.
The beautiful is doomed to rumor.
He cannot be denigrated by reproach -
Crow in radiant blue.

You are good, but a chorus of slander
You are valued even more.
The worm finds the most delicate flowers,
And you are innocent, like spring itself.

You escaped the ambush of your youthful days
Or the attacker himself was defeated,
But with its purity and truth
You will not shut the mouths of slanderers.

Without that light shadow on my forehead
You alone would reign on earth!

You will be sad when the poet dies,
Until the ringing of the nearest church
Will not announce that this low light
I traded for the lower world of worms.

And if you re-read my sonnet,
Don't regret your cold hand.
I don't want to blur the delicate color
The eyes of your beloved ones with your memory.

I don't want the echo of these lines
It reminded me again and again.
Let them die at the same time
My breath and your love!..

I don't want my sadness
You have given yourself over to the rumors of men.

So that the light cannot force you
Tell me what you loved about me -
Forget me when in your declining years
Or else the grave will take me.

You will find so little good
Going through all my merits,
That inevitably, speaking about a friend,
You'll come up with a saving lie.

So that true love don't tarnish
Some false memory
Quickly erase me from your memory, -

Or I will have to answer twice:
For being so insignificant during life
And then he forced you to lie!

That time of year do you see in me,
When one or two crimson leaves
Trembling in the heights from the cold -
In the choir, where the cheerful whistling has died down.

In me you see that evening hour,
When the sunset faded in the west
And the dome of the sky, taken from us,
Like death - enveloped in darkness.

In me you see the sparkle of that fire,
Which fades away in the ashes of days past,
And what life was for me
It becomes my grave.

You see everything. But the end is near
Our hearts are more closely connected!

When will I be put under arrest?
Without ransom, collateral or deferment,
Not a block of stone, not a grave cross -
These lines will be a monument to me.

You will find again and again in my verses
Everything in me belonged to you.
Let the earth get my ashes, -
If you lose me, you will lose little.

The best in me will be with you.
And death will take from life quickly
The sediment remaining at the bottom
What a tramp could have stolen

To her - the shards of a broken ladle,
You have my wine, my soul.

You satisfy my hungry gaze
Like earth, refreshing moisture.
I'm having an endless argument with you,
Like a miser with his treasure.

Sometimes he’s happy, sometimes he’s tossing about in his sleep,
Fearing the steps sounding behind the wall,
He wants to be alone with the casket,
Then he’s glad to show off his sparkling treasury.

So I, having tasted the bliss at the feast,
I'm tormented by thirst, waiting for a glance.
I live by what I take from you,
My hope, torment and reward.

In the languid alternation of days
Sometimes I’m richer than everyone else, sometimes I’m poorer than everyone else.

Alas, my verse does not shine with novelty,
A variety of unexpected changes.
Should I look for another path,
New techniques, strange combinations?

I repeat the same again,
I appear again in old clothes.
And it seems to be called by name
Anyone can say me in poetry.

All this is because again and again
I solve one of my problems:

I am writing about you, my love,
And I spend the same heart, the same strength.

The same sun walks above me,
But it doesn’t sparkle with novelty either!

The mirror will show your gray hairs,
A watch is a loss of golden minutes.
The line will fall on the white page -
And your thought will be seen and read.

Along the lines of wrinkles in true glass
We all count our losses.
And in the leisurely rustle of the clock
Time stealthily flows towards eternity.

Capture in fluent words
Everything that the memory cannot hold.
Your children, long forgotten by you,
Someday you will meet again.

How often are these strings found
There are priceless lessons for us.

I called you my muse
So often that now they compete
Poets, having adopted my idea,
They decorated their poems with you.

Eyes that taught the mute to sing,
They made ignorance fly, -
Subtle art has been given wings,
Grace is the seal of greatness.

And yet I am proud of my offering,
Although I was not given such wings.
You serve as decoration for the poems of others,
My poems were born by you.

Poetry is in you. Simple feelings
You know how to elevate to art.

When alone I found the origins
Poetry in you, my verse shone.
But how now my lines have faded
And the voice of the weak muse fell silent!

I recognize the powerlessness of my poems.
But all that can be said about you is
The poet finds abundance in yours,
To present it to you again.

He praises virtue, this word
Having stolen from your behavior,
He sings of beauty, but again
Brings a gift by robbing the deity.

The one who pays should not thank
In full for everything the poet spends.

But since the free ocean is wide
And with the mighty ship
A modest little shuttle rocks, -
I dared to appear on the wave.

Only with your help in the midst of stormy waters
I can hold on without going down.
And he sails in the radiance of sails,
Bottomless disturbing depth.

I don't know what awaits me on the way,
But I’m not afraid to find death in love.

Do you have to bury me?
Or should I take you, I don’t know, my dear friend.
But let the thread of your fate be broken,
Your image will not disappear beyond the grave.

You will save both life and beauty,
And nothing will be preserved from me.
I will find peace in the cemetery,
And your shelter is an open tomb.

Your monument is my rapturous verse.
Those who are not yet born will hear it.
And the world will repeat the story of your days,
When all those who are now breathing die.

You will live, leaving the earth's dust,
Where the breath lives - on the lips!

You are not engaged to my muse,
And your judgment is often lenient,
When you poets of our days
They dedicate their work eloquently.

Your mind is as graceful as your features
Much more subtle than all my praise.
And involuntarily you are looking for lines
Newer than those I wrote to you.

I'm ready to give in to my opponents.
But after rhetorical attempts
The truth of these words will become clearer,
What a friend who is just talking writes.

The bloodless need bright paint,
Your blood is already red.

I thought that your beauty
There is no need for fake paints.
I thought: you are more beautiful and sweeter
Everything a poet can say.

That's why the seal of silence
It lay on my modest lips, -
To prove your greatness
Beauty could exist without jewelry.

But you consider it an impudent sin
My beloved muse is mute.
Meanwhile, others with a weak verse
Immortal beauty is buried.

What shines in your gaze,
Your singers cannot express together.

Who knows the words that mean more
True words that you are only you?
Who hides in his treasury
An example of such beauty for you?

How poor is the verse that has not added
The merits of the culprit are praised.
But only he glorified himself in poetry,
Who simply called you you.

Having retold what nature said,
He creates a true portrait of you,
Which is countless years old
The light will marvel with delight.

My silent muse is so humble.
Meanwhile, the best poets around
They draw letters for your glory
With an eloquent golden pen.

My goddess is quieter than all goddesses.
And I, like an illiterate sexton,
I only know how to shout “Amen!”
At the end of solemn-sounding lines.

I say: “Of course!”, “So it is!”,
When poets pronounce a verse,
Giving honor to your merits, -
But how much Feeling is in my thoughts!

Appreciate singers for loud words,
I am for quiet thoughts, without words.

Is it his verse - the mighty noise of the sails,
Rushing in pursuit of you, -
I buried all my plans,
Making the womb a coffin urn?

Is it his hand that writes
Taught by some spirit, deprived of a body,
He puts a seal on timid lips,
Having reached the limit of your skill?

Oh no, neither he nor the friendly spirit -
His nightly advisor is disembodied -
So they couldn't stun my ears
And fear will strike my gift of words.

But if you don’t leave his lips, -
My poem, like a house, stands open and empty.

Goodbye! I don't dare stop you.
I value your love dearly.
I can't afford what I own
And I humbly give the deposit.

I use love as a gift.
Merits have not bought her.
And that means it’s a voluntary condition
You are free to break it at your whim.

You gave it, I put it without knowing the price
Or maybe without knowing me.
And an ill-gotten reward
I saved it until today.

I was a king only in a dream.
I was dethroned by awakening.

Whenever you want, having lost interest in me,
Consign me to ridicule and contempt,
I'll stay on your side
And I will not besmirch your honor with a shadow.

Knowing perfectly well each of his vices,
I can tell such a story,
That I will forever remove the reproach from you,
I will justify the stained conscience.

And I will be grateful to fate:
Even if I fail in the fight,
But I bring you the honor of victory
And I gain twice everything that I spend.

I'm ready to be a victim of wrongness,
So that only you are right.

Tell me that you found a trait in me,
Which caused your betrayal.
Well, judge me for lameness -
And I will walk with my knee bent.

You won't find such offensive words
To justify the sudden cooling,
How will I find it? I'm ready to become different
To give you rights of alienation.

I will be in a fight with myself:
He is hostile to me who is not nice to you!

If you stop loving - so now,
Now that the whole world is at odds with me.
Be the most bitter of my losses,
But not the last drop of grief!

And if grief is given to me to overcome,
Don't strike from an ambush.
May the stormy night not be resolved
A rainy morning is a morning without joy.

Leave me, but not at the last moment,
When small troubles make me weak.
Leave it now so that I can immediately comprehend
That this grief is more painful than all adversities,

That there are no adversities, but only one misfortune -
Your love will be lost forever.

Who boasts of his kinship with the nobility,
Some with force, some with shiny braid,
Some with a wallet, some with buckles on a dress,
Who is a falcon, a dog, a racer.

People have different preferences,
But everyone has only one mile.
And I have a special happiness -
Everything else is contained in it.

Your love, my friend, is more valuable than treasure,
More honorable than the crown of kings,
More elegant than a rich outfit,
Falcon hunting is more fun.

You can take away everything I own
And at this moment I will immediately become poor.

You can't escape me.
You will be mine until your last days.
My life's path is connected with love,
And it must end with her.

Why should I be afraid of worse troubles,
When am I at least threatened with death?
And I have no addiction
From your whims or grievances.

I'm not afraid of your betrayals.
Your betrayal is a merciless knife.
Oh, how blessed is my sad lot:
I was yours and you will kill me.

But there is no happiness in the world without a spot.
Who will tell me that you are faithful now?

Well, I will live, accepting it as a condition,
That you are faithful. Although you have become different,
But the shadow of love seems to us like love.
If not with your heart, be with me with your eyes.

Your look doesn't speak of change.
He harbors neither boredom nor enmity.
There are persons on whom crimes
They draw indelible marks.

But apparently, this is what the higher powers want:
Let your beautiful lips lie,
But in this gaze, affectionate and sweet,
The purity still shines.

The apple from the tree was wonderful
Adam's misfortune was foiled by Eve.

Who, possessing evil, will not cause evil,
Without using the full power of this power,
Who moves others, but, like granite,
Unshakable and not subject to passion, -

Heaven grants grace to him,
The earth brings dear gifts.
He is given greatness to possess,
And others are called to honor greatness.

Summer cherishes its best flower,
Even though it blooms and withers on its own.
But if vice found refuge in him,
Any weed will be more worthy of him.

Thistle is sweeter and dearer to us
Corrupted roses, poisoned lilies.

You know how to decorate your shame.
But, like an invisible worm in the garden
He draws a disastrous pattern on the roses, -
So your vice stains you too.

Rumor talks about your affairs,
Guesses generously adding to them.
But praise becomes blasphemy.
Vice is justified by your name!

In what a magnificent palace
You give shelter to low temptations!
Under the beautiful mask on the face,
They will not be recognized in their magnificent attire.

But beauty cannot be preserved in vices.
As the sword rusts, it loses its sharpness.

Who condemns your careless disposition,
Who is captivated by your young success?
But, having justified the misdeeds with charm,
You turn sin into virtue.

Fake stone in the ring of kings
It is considered an expensive diamond -
So are the vices of your youth
Advantages seem to others.

How many sheep would a wolf steal?
Putting on the lamb's tender fleece.
How many hearts can you captivate?
Everything that is given to you by your fate.

Stop, I love you so much
That I am all yours and I share your honor.

It seemed to me that it was winter,
When I didn't see you, my friend.
What frost it was, what darkness,
What an empty December reigned around!

During this time the summer passed
And gave way to autumn.
And autumn walked, walking heavily, -
The widow left behind to give birth.

It seemed to me that all the fruits of the earth
From birth, the orphan's destiny awaits.
There is no summer in the world if you are away.
Where you are not there and the bird does not sing.

And where a timid, pitiful whistle is heard,
In anticipation of winter, the leaf turns pale.

Blooming and stormy April separated us.
He revived everything with his spirit.
In the night the heavy star of Saturn
She laughed and danced with him.

But the hubbub of birds and smells and colors
Countless flowers didn't help
The birth of my spring fairy tale.
I did not tear up the colorful firstborn of the earth.

Opened bowls of snow lilies,
Purple roses are the fragrant first color,
Reminding me, they didn't replace me
A cheek and a mouth that has no equal.

There was winter in me, but the shine of spring
It seemed like the shadow of a cute shadow to me.

I reproached the early violet:
The evil one steals her sweet scent
From your mouth, and every petal
He steals his velvet from you.

The lilies have the whiteness of your hand,
Your dark curl is in the buds of marjoram,
A white rose is the color of your cheek,
The red rose has your fire rosy.

The third rose is white, like snow,
And red as the dawn is your breath.
But the daring thief did not escape retribution:
The worm eats him as punishment.

What flowers are there in the spring garden?
And everyone steals your scent or color.

Where is the muse? That her lips are silent
About who inspired her flight?
Or, busy with a cheap song,
Does she create insignificant fame?

Sing, vain muse, for
Who can evaluate your game
Who gives both brilliance and skill,
And nobility to your pen.

Look at his beautiful features
And if you find a wrinkle in them,
Expose the beauty killer
Brand robbery with an angry stanza.

Before it's too late, hurry up
Immortal features capture!

O windy muse, why,
Rejecting the truth in the brilliance of beauty,
You don't paint my friend
Whose valor are you glorified by?

But maybe you'll tell me back,
That beauty does not need to be decorated,
That there is no need to give color to the truth
And the best is not worth improving.

Yes, perfection needs no praise,
But you don’t regret words or colors,
So that beauty survives in glory
Your own gold-covered mausoleum.

Untouched - just like these days,
Save a beautiful image to the world!

I love you, but I talk about it less often,
I love more tenderly, but not for many eyes.
The one in front of the light sells feelings
He puts his whole soul on display.

I greeted you with a song, like hello,
When love was new to us.
So the nightingale thunders at midnight
In the spring, but forgets the flute in the summer.

The night will not lose its charm,
When his outpourings cease.
But music, sounding from all branches,
Having become ordinary, he loses his charm.

And I fell silent like a nightingale:
I sang mine and don’t sing it anymore.

The poor muse has no more colors,
And what glory was revealed to her!
But, apparently, my bare plot is better
Without adding my praise.

That's why I stopped writing.
But look into the mirror glass
And make sure that you are above all praise
A forehead reflected in glass.

All that... what did this surface reflect?
The palette or the chisel will not convey.
Why should we, trying to convey,
So spoil a sample so perfect?

And we don’t want to argue in vain
With nature or your mirror.

You don't change over the years.
You were the same when you first
I met you. Three gray winters
Three magnificent years covered the trail.

Three gentle springs have changed color
For juicy fruit and leaves of fire,
And three times the forest was stripped in the fall...
And the elements do not rule over you.

On the dial, showing us the hour,
Leaving the number, the arrow is golden
Moves slightly, invisible to the eye,
So I don’t notice how old you are.

And if sunset is necessary, -
He was there before you were born!

Don't call me a pagan
Don't call a deity an idol.
I sing hymns full of love,
To him, about him and only for him.

His love is more tender every day,
And, dedicating a verse to constancy,
I can't help but talk about him
Without knowing the themes and intentions of others.

“Wonderful, faithful, kind” - these are the words,
Which I say in many ways.
They have three definitions of deity,
But how many combinations of these words are there!

Goodness, beauty and fidelity lived apart,
But it all merged in you alone.

When I read in the scroll of dead years
About fiery lips, long silent,
About the beauty that makes up the verse
For the glory of ladies and beautiful knights,

Features preserved for centuries -
Eyes, smile, hair and eyebrows -
They tell me that only in the ancient word
You could be completely reflected.

In any line to your beautiful lady
The poet dreamed of predicting you,
But he couldn’t convey all of you,
Staring into the distance with loving eyes.

Neither my own fear nor my prophetic gaze
the entire universe, diligently looking into the distance,
They don’t know how long I’ve been given
A love whose death seemed inevitable.

Its eclipse mortal moon
Survived in spite of the lying prophets.
Hope is once again enthroned,
And a long peace promises prosperity for the olive trees.

Death does not threaten us with separation.
Let me die, but I will rise in verse.
Blind death threatens only the tribes,
Not yet enlightened, speechless.

In my poems you too will survive
Crowns of tyrants and coats of arms of nobles.

What can the brain convey to paper?
To add something new to your praises?
What should I remember, what should I tell,
To glorify your virtues?

There is nothing, my friend. But hello,
Like an old prayer - word for word -
I repeat. There is no novelty in it,
But it sounds solemn and new.

Immortal love, born again,
It inevitably seems different to us.
Eternal love knows no wrinkles
And he makes old age his servant.

And there is her birth, where is the rumor
And time they say: love is dead.

Don't call me an unfaithful friend.
How could I change or change?
My soul, the soul of my love,
In your chest, as my pledge, is kept.

You are my shelter, given by fate.
I left and came back
The way he was and brought with him
Living water that washes away stains.

Let my sins burn my blood,
But I didn't reach the last edge,
So as not to return from wanderings again
To you, source of all good deeds.

What is this spacious world without you?
You are alone in it. There is no other happiness.

Yes, it's true: wherever I've been,
In front of anyone you make a fool of yourself,
How cheaply he sold his wealth
And insulted love with new love!

Yes, it's true: the truth doesn't matter
I looked into your eyes, but somewhere past,
But youth again found my quick glance,
While wandering, he recognized you as his beloved.

It's over and I won't do it again
Look for what intensifies passions,
Test love with new love.
You are a deity, and I am entirely in your power.

Find me shelter near heaven
On this pure, loving breast.

Oh, how right you are, my fate is scolded,
The culprit of my bad deeds,
The goddess who condemned me
Depend on public handouts.

The dyer cannot hide his craft.
So damn busy for me
It became an indelible seal.
Oh, help me wash away my curse!

I agree to swallow without a murmur
Medicinal bitter roots,
I will not consider bitterness as bitter,
Consider the measure of correction to be wrong.

But with your pity, oh dear friend,
You are the best person to cure my illness!

My Friend, your love and kindness
Filled the deep trace of the curse,
Which was burned out by evil slander
On my forehead there is a red-hot seal.

Only your praise and your reproach
My joy will be my sorrow.
For everyone else I died from now on
And the feelings were shackled with invisible steel.

I threw fear into such an abyss,
That I'm not afraid of vipers entwined together,
And the hum barely reaches me
Crafty slander and deceitful flattery.

I hear my friend's heart
And everything around is silent and dead.

Since the day of separation - an eye in my soul,
And the one by which I find the way,
Can't distinguish between visible things
At least I still look at everything.

Neither the heart nor the mind a quick glance
Cannot give an account of what he saw.
He is not happy with grass, flowers and birds,
And nothing lives in it for long.

A beautiful and ugly thing
The gaze turns into your likeness:
Dove and crow, darkness and light,
Blue sea and mountain peaks.

Full of you and deprived of you,
My faithful and unfaithful gaze sees a dream.

Am I really, having accepted the crown of love,
Like all monarchs, are you intoxicated with flattery?
One of two things: my eyes are a crafty flatterer.
Or he was taught magic by you.

Of monsters and formless things
He creates bright cherubs.
To everything that is included in the circle of its rays,
It gives a resemblance to your face.

Or rather the first guess: flattery.
Everything I love is known to the eye,
And he knows how to present a cup,
To please the king.

Even if it is poison, my eye will atone for sin:
He tastes the poison before anyone else!

Oh, how I once lied when I said:

"My love couldn't be stronger."
I didn’t know, full of flames of grief,
That I know how to love even more tenderly.

Foreseeing a million coincidences,
Invading every moment
Breaking the immutable law,
Hesitating and vows and aspirations,

Not believing the changeable fate,
But only an hour that has not yet lived,
I said: "My love for you
So great that it cannot be greater!”

Love is a child. I was wrong in front of her
Calling the child an adult woman.

Interfering with the connection of two hearts
I don't intend to. Can treason
Is there an end to immeasurable love?
Love knows no decline or decay.

Love is a beacon raised above the storm,
Not fading in darkness and fog.
Love is the star by which the sailor
Determines a place in the ocean.

Love is not a pathetic doll in your hands
At the time that erases the roses
On fiery lips and cheeks,
And she is not afraid of threats from time.

And if I'm wrong and my verse lies,
Then there is no love - and there are no poems of mine!

Tell me that I neglected to pay
For all the good I owe you,
That I forgot your cherished threshold,
With whom I am connected by all ties,

That I didn't know the value of your watch,
Ruthlessly giving them to strangers,
What allowed the unknown sails
To carry myself away from my beloved land.

All my crimes of liberty
You put me next to my love,
Submit to the strict judgment of your eyes,
But don't punish me with a death glare.

It's my fault. But it's all my fault
It will show how true your love is.

Spicy seasonings for your appetite
We call it a bitter taste in the mouth.
We drink bitterness to avoid poison,
Deliberately causing nausea.

So, spoiled by your love,
I found joy in bitter thoughts
And I invented ill health for myself
Still in the prime of vigor and strength.

From this love's deceit
And the salvation of imaginary troubles
I got seriously ill and took medication
I swallowed the bitterest ones to my detriment.

But I realized: medicines are deadly poison
For those who are sick with boundless love.

What a drink from the bitter tears of the Sirens
Am I poisoned by what tincture of hell?
Now I am afraid, now I am captured by hope,
I'm close to riches and I'm losing my treasure.

What did I sin in my happy hour,
When did I reach my zenith in bliss?
What illness shocked me all
So the eyes left their sockets?

O beneficent power of evil!
All the best things become prettier from grief,
And that love that was burned to the ground,
It blooms even more luxuriantly and turns green.

So after all the countless losses
Many times I am richer.

That my friend was cruel to me,
Useful for me. Having experienced sadness myself,
I must bend under my guilt,
If this heart is a heart, not steel.

And if I shocked a friend with offense,
Like him, he is tormented by hell,
And I can't have any leisure
Remember past grievances.

Let that night of sadness and languor
Reminds me of how I felt
So that I bring it to a friend for healing,
Like him then, repentance is a balm.

I have forgiven everything that I once experienced,
And forgive me - mutual retribution!

It’s better to be a sinner than to be known as a sinner.
Fraud is worse than accusation.
And joy perishes if it is judged
It should not be our opinion, but someone else’s opinion.

How can the gaze of other people's vicious eyes
Spare the game of hot blood in me?
I may be a sinner, but not more sinner than you,
My spies, masters of slander.

I am me, and you are my sins
In your own way you follow example.
But maybe I'm straight, but the judge
A crooked measure is in the hands of the wrong,

And he sees lies in any of his neighbors,
Because his neighbor looks like him!

I don't need your tables. In the brain -
More accurately than on parchment and wax, -
I will preserve your image forever,
And I don't need memorial plaques.

You will live until those distant days
When the living, yielding to decay,
Will give away a piece of your memory
To the omnipotent and eternal oblivion.

It wouldn't last that long, the wax would survive
Your tables are your gift in vain.
No, loving heart, sensitive brain
Your beautiful face will be more fully preserved.

Who should keep the reminder of love,
That's why memory can change!

Don't boast, time, about your power over me.
Those pyramids that were built
You again, they don’t shine with novelty.
They are a remake of antiquity.

Our age is short. No wonder we
To be seduced by re-faced old things.
We believe that we were born
Everything we learn from our ancestors.

Your archive is worth nothing.
There is not even a shadow of surprise in me
Before what is and was. This lie
You weave in the haste of the fussy years.

And if I have been faithful until now,
I will not change in spite of you!

Oh, may my love be a child of fortune,
Daughter of time, born without rights, -
Fate might have assigned her a place
In your wreath or in a heap of weeds.

But no, my love was not created by chance.
Blind power does not promise her fate
To be a miserable slave of prosperity
And fall a pathetic victim of indignation.

She is not afraid of tricks and threats
Those who rent an hour from happiness.
The ray does not caress her, the thunderstorms do not destroy her.
She goes her own way.

And you, temporary worker, are a witness to this,
Whose life is a vice, and whose death is a virtue.

What if I earned the right
Hold the crown above the throne of the ruler
Or laid the stone of immortality,
No more reliable than a ruin?

Who chases after external vanity,
Loses everything without calculating retribution,
And often forgets the simple taste;

Spoiled by intricate concoctions.
No, I will only wait for your gifts.
And you accept my bread, simple and meager.
It is given to you as grace,
As a sign of mutual selfless sacrifice.

Be gone, tempter! The more difficult it is for the soul,
The less you rule over her!

My winged boy, bearing the burden
The clock that tells us time,
You grow from decline, confirming
That we nourish love while fading.

Nature, destroyer mother,
Your move stubbornly turns back.
She keeps you for an idle joke,
To kill minutes while giving birth.

But fear your cruel mistress:
The insidious one will spare you until your deadline.
When will this time expire, -
He will present you with an invoice and give you a settlement.

Black was not considered beautiful,
When in the world beauty was valued.
But, apparently, the white light has changed, -
The beautiful has been denigrated by counterfeit.

Since all natural colors
Skillfully replaces the borrowed color,
Beauty has lost its last rights,
She is reputed to be rootless and homeless.

That's why hair and eyes
To my beloved, blacker than night, -
It's like they're wearing mourning clothes
For those who defame beauty with paint.

But a black veil suits them so well,
That blackness has become beauty.

Only you, oh my music,
You will make music, disturbing the system
Frets and strings skillfully played,
I am tormented by jealous envy.

It's a shame to me that the caresses of gentle hands
You give to the dancing frets,
Tearing out a short, fleeting sound, -
And not to my languid lips.

I would all like to become keys,
So that only your fingers are light
They walked over me, making me tremble,
When you touch the strings in oblivion.

But if happiness fell on a string,
Give your hands to her, and your lips to me!

The cost of spirit and shame is a waste -
This is voluptuousness in action. It
Ruthless, insidious, possessed,
Cruel, rude, full of rage.

Satisfied, it attracts contempt,
He spares no effort in pursuit.
And he is deprived of peace and oblivion,
Who accidentally took the bait.

Crazy, at odds with itself,
It owns or is owned by it.
In hope there is joy, in trial there is sorrow,
And in the past - a dream that melted away like smoke.

All this is true. But will the sinner escape
The gates of heaven leading to utter hell?

Her eyes are not like stars
You can't call your mouth coral,
The open skin of the shoulders is not snow-white,
And a strand curls like black wire.

With damask rose, scarlet or white,
You can't compare the shade of these cheeks.
And the body smells like the body smells,
Not like a violet's delicate petal.

You won't find perfect lines in it,
Special light on the forehead.
I don't know how the goddesses walk,
But the darling steps on the ground.

And yet she will hardly yield to those
Who was slandered in comparisons of magnificent people?

You are full of whims and love power,
Like all arrogant beauties.
You know that my blind passion
He considers you a precious gift.

Let them say that your dark appearance
The tears of love's languor are not worth it, -
I do not dare to enter into an argument with rumors,
But I argue with her in my imagination.

To assure yourself to the end
And prove the absurdity of these fables,
I swear to tears that the dark complexion
And the black color of your hair is beautiful.

The trouble is not that you have a dark complexion, -
It's not you who are black, it's your deeds that are black!

I love your eyes. They me
The forgotten one is truly pitied.
Burying a rejected friend
They wear black as mourning.

Believe me, the shine of the sun does not go well
To the face of the gray early east,
And that star that leads the evening to us -
Transparent skies western eye -

Not so radiant and not so bright,
Like this gaze, beautiful and farewell.
Oh, if only you clothed my heart
In the same mourning, soft and sad, -

I would think that beauty itself
Black as night, and brighter than light - darkness!

Damn the soul that tormented
My friend and I were betrayed on a whim.
It seemed to you that it was not enough to torment me, -
My best friend is captured in the same captivity

Cruel, me with an unkind eye
You forever deprived three hearts:
Losing my will, I lost at once
You, yourself and your friend finally.

But save your friend from his slave share
And order me to guard him.
I will be a guard while in captivity,
And I will give my heart as a pledge for him.

The prayer is in vain. You are my prison
And everything that is mine must languish with me.

So it's yours. Now my destiny
It will turn out to be a mortgaged estate,
So that only he is my second “I” -
Still served me as a consolation.

But he doesn’t want it and you don’t want it.
You won't give it up for personal gain.
And he is out of infinite kindness
I'm ready to stay in your pawn.

He is my guarantor and your debtor.
You are the power of your cruel beauty
You're stalking him like a moneylender
And you threaten me with a lonely fate.

He pledged his freedom,
But he couldn’t give me back my freedom!

No wonder the name given to me means
"Wish". We are tormented by desire,
I beg you: take me in addition
To all your other desires.

Are you, whose will is so boundless,
Can't find a home for mine?
And, if there is a gentle response to your desires,
Will they really not find my answer?

Like in a deep, free ocean
The rain wanderers find shelter, -
Among your countless desires
And find my shelter.

Don't hurt me with an unkind no.
All desires will merge in your will.

Your soul resists dating.
But tell her what my name is.
They called me "will" or "desire"
And the will has a shelter in every soul.

She will fill the depths of your soul
Oneself and many wills.
And in those matters where the account is kept generously,
The number "one" is nothing more than zero.

Even if I am nothing in a myriad of multitudes,
But for you I will remain alone.
For everyone else I will be invisible
But let me be loved by you.

First you will love my nickname,
Then you will love me. I am desire!

----
Sonnets 135 and 136 are built on a play on words. Short name of the poet
"Will" (from "William" - "William") is written and sounds the same as the word
meaning will or desire. (Author's note.)

Love is blind and deprives us of our eyes.
I don't see what I see clearly.
I saw beauty, but every time
I couldn’t understand what was bad and what was beautiful.

And if the looks turned my heart
And they threw anchor into such waters,
Where many ships pass, -
Why don't you give him freedom?

How does my heart feel about a passing yard?
Could the estate seem happy?
But everything I saw was denied by my gaze,
Coloring a false face with truth.

The truthful light was replaced by darkness,
And the lies seized me like a plague.

When you swear to me that you are all
To serve as an example worthy of truth,
I believe even though I see you lying
Imagining me as a blind youth.

Flattered that I can still
To seem young in spite of the truth,
I lie to myself in my vanity,
And we are both far from the truth.

Won't you say that you lied to me again?
And it makes no sense for me to admit my age.
Love is held together by imaginary trust,
And old age, having fallen in love, is ashamed of its years.

I'm lying to you, you're lying to me unwittingly,
And it seems that we are quite satisfied!

Don't force me to justify myself
Your injustice and deceit.
It’s better to conquer force with force,
But do not wound me with cunning.

Love another, but in moments of meeting
Don't take your eyelashes away from me.
Why be cunning? Your gaze is a striking sword,
And there is no armor on the loving chest.

You yourself know the power of your eyes,
And, perhaps, looking away,
You are preparing to kill others,
Sparing me out of mercy.

Oh, have no mercy! Let your gaze be direct
If he kills me, I will be glad to die.

Be as smart as you are evil. Don't open it
The clamped lips of my heartache.
Otherwise, suffering, gushing over the edge,
They will suddenly start talking against their will.

Even though you don't love me, deceive me
Me with fake, imaginary love.
Who lives only a few days,
He expects hope from doctors for his health.

You'll drive me crazy with your contempt
And you will force the silence to be broken.
And the slanderous light any lie,
Any crazy nonsense is ready to be overheard.

To avoid the stigma,
Be twisted with your soul, but be straight in appearance!

My eyes are not in love with you, -
They see your vices clearly.
And the heart is not a single one of your faults
He doesn’t see and doesn’t agree with his eyes.

And yet external feelings are not given -
Neither all five, nor each individual -
To assure one poor heart,
That this slavery is fatal for him.

In my misfortune alone I am glad,
That you are my sin and you are my eternal hell.

Love is my sin, and your anger is just.
You don't forgive my vice.
But, comparing our crimes,
You will not reproach my love.

Or you will understand that it is not your lips
They have the right to expose me.
Their beauty has long been desecrated
Treason, lies, evil oaths.

Is my love more sinful than yours?
Let me love you, and you love another,
But you have pity on me in misfortune,
So that the world does not judge you harshly.

And if pity sleeps in your chest,
Then don’t expect pity yourself!

Often in order to catch
Crazy chicken or rooster,
The mother lowers the child to the ground,
I am deaf to his pleas and complaints,

And he chases the fugitive in vain,
Who, with his neck stretched forward
And trembling before her face,
Doesn't give the hostess a break.

So you left me, my friend,
Chasing what runs away.
I'm like a child looking for you around,
I call you, tormented day and night.

Hurry up and catch your winged dream
And return to abandoned love.

For joy and sorrow, by the will of fate,
Two friends, two loves rule me:

Light-haired, light-eyed man
And a woman in whose eyes the darkness of the night.

To throw me into absolute hell,
The demon seeks to seduce the angel,
Captivate him with your sinful beauty
And turn into a devil by temptation.

I don’t know, watching their struggle,
Who will win, but I don’t expect anything good.
My friends are friends with each other,
And I'm afraid that my angel is in hell.

But is he there, I will know about it,
When he is thrown out from there.

I hate - these are the words
What came from her sweet lips the other day
They burst out in anger. But barely
She noticed my fear -

How I held my tongue
Which I still don't care about
Whispered now a caress, now a reproach,
Not a cruel sentence.

“I hate,” - subdued,
The lips spoke, but the look
Anger has already been replaced by mercy,
And the night rushed from heaven to hell.

My soul, the core of the sinful land,
Surrendering himself to the rebel forces,
You are languishing from spiritual need
And you spend money on painting the external walls.

Short-lived guest, why such funds?
You spend on your rented house,
To give the blind worms an inheritance
Property earned through labor?

Grow, soul, and be satisfied to your heart's content,
Save your treasure with the passing days
And, acquiring a better share,
Live richer, outwardly poorer.

Rule over death in fleeting life,
And death will die, but you will remain forever.

Love is a disease. My soul is sick
A languid, unquenchable thirst.
She demands the same poison,
Who poisoned her once.

My mind-doctor treated my love.
She rejected herbs and roots,
And the poor doctor was exhausted
And he left us, losing patience.

From now on, my illness is incurable.
The soul finds no peace in anything.
Abandoned by my mind
And feelings and words wander at will.

And for a long time to me, deprived of my mind,
Hell seemed like heaven, and darkness seemed like light!

Oh, how my love has changed my eye!
Vision diverges from reality.
Or is my mind so lost,
What denies visible phenomena?

It's good what pleases the eyes,
So how can the world disagree with me?
And if not, I must admit it myself,
That the gaze of love is false and unclear.

Who is right: the whole world or my loving gaze?
But those who love to watch are prevented by tears.
Sometimes the sun goes blind until
Until the whole sky is washed by thunderstorms.

Love is cunning - it needs streams of tears,
To hide your sins from your eyes!

You say there is no love in me.
But am I, waging war with you,
Not on your side
And I don’t give up my weapons without a fight?

Have I entered into an alliance with your enemy,
Do I love those you hate?
And don’t I blame myself all around,
When will you hurt me in vain?

What merit am I proud of?
To consider humiliation a shame?
Your sin is dearer to me than virtue,
My verdict is the movement of your eyelashes.

In your enmity, one thing is clear to me:
You love sighted people - I have been blind for a long time.

Where do you get so much strength from?
To rule in powerlessness over me?
I tell lies to my own eyes,
I swear to them that the light of day did not shine.

So endless is the charm of evil,
The confidence and power of sinful forces,
That I, forgiving dark deeds,
I loved your sin as a virtue.

Everything that would fuel enmity in another,
Nourishes tenderness in my chest.
I love what everyone curses around me,
But don’t judge me with everyone else.

He deserves special love
Who gives his soul to the unworthy.

The youth of conscience does not know reproaches,
Like love, even though conscience is the daughter of love.
And don't expose my vices
Or hold yourself accountable.

I am completely devoted to you, I am completely devoted to you
I surrender to simple and brutal passions.
My spirit slyly seduces my body,
And the flesh celebrates its victory.

With your name she strives
Point out the purpose of your desires,
Stands like a slave before his queen,
To fall at her feet again.

Who knew in love, the ups and downs,
The depths of conscience are familiar to him.

I know that my love is sinful
But you are guilty of double betrayal,
Having forgotten the marital vow and again
By breaking the oath of fidelity to love.

But do I have the right to do this?
To reproach you for double treason?
Frankly, I myself have committed more than two,
And as many as twenty perjuries.

I swore by your kindness more than once,
In your deep love and loyalty.
I blinded the pupils of biased eyes,
So as not to see your vice.

I swore: you are truthful and pure, -
And he desecrated his lips with black lies.

God Cupid dozed in the silence of the forest,
And Cupid's young nymph
I took a burning resin torch
And she lowered it into the cold stream.

The fire went out, and there was water in the stream
It heated up, began to bubble, and began to boil.
And so the sick come there
Treat a weak body with bathing.

Meanwhile, love is the crafty god
Got the fire out of my girlfriend's eyes
And he set my heart on fire for the experience.
Oh, how illnesses have tormented me since then!

But it’s not a stream that can heal them,
And the same poison is the fire of her eyes.

The god of love lay down under a tree,
Throwing his burning torch to the ground.
Seeing that the treacherous god had fallen asleep,
The nymphs decided to run out of the thicket.

One of them approached the fire,
Who caused a lot of troubles to the maidens,
And she dipped the firebrand into the water,
Disarming the slumbering god.

The stream water became hot.
She cured many ailments.
And I went to swim in that stream,
To recover from love for a friend.

Love heated the water, but the water
Love never cooled.

Present edition immortal works William Shakespeare is unique in its own way in modern Russian literature, since a literal translation of the author was attempted for the first time. This titanic work was carried out by the poet and translator Nikolai Samoilov. Having rid Shakespeare of the literary layers caused by translators of the twentieth century, Samoilov showed readers the real and, as it turned out, very relevant work of the world genius. Meet the real Shakespeare. For wide range readers.

1. “We expect offspring from the pearl of beauty...”

We expect offspring from the pearl of beauty -

Thus the rose of beauty does not die;

When the mature flowers fade,

The heirs retain their appearance.

But you are married by the gaze of clear eyes,

You feed love with your beauty,

In abundance, for yourself once again,

As your worst enemy, you are doomed to hunger.

You are the decoration of the world, the standard,

The only herald of the beauty of spring,

Burying your sweet face in a bud,

Like a miser, you lavish your meager wages.

Don't be a glutton, eating the world,

With a grave, for two, having a feast.

2. “When a person is besieged by forty winters...”

When a person is besieged by forty winters,

On the field of beauty, fighting with flesh,

An outfit that makes you irresistible

It will wear out and will remain in rags;

Then, if they ask where now

All the beauty of a spring outfit,

Don't say: "In the depths of sunken eyes."

The answer will be considered shameless bravado.

It is more worthy to say: “I did not live in vain,

This is the excuse for old age – a child.

I tried, creating a copy in it,

That's why he's my portrait from the cradle.

I, having grown old, seem to be young again,

Having cooled down in me, the blood burns in my son.”

3. “Look in the mirror and see the reflection...”

Look in the mirror and see the reflection

Say: “It’s time to create a living portrait.”

You will deceive the world by not fulfilling your decision,

You'll take away the girl's grace.

After all, where is the one who is not happy?

Let the virgin womb be plowed open?

Or maybe self-love is a barrier,

She tells the childless to die?

For a family to become a tomb is treachery,

You are a mirror for your mother,

She is in you, and you are in your offspring

You'll get your April back days gone by.

But, if you decide to terminate your family line,

Live alone, and your image will die.

4. “Why your beauty - the wealth of the family...”

Why your beauty - the wealth of the family

Spending money on yourself, you lovely spendthrift?

She is not a gift, generous nature

He gives it back to the generous.

Beautiful miser, why are you lending

Won't you hurry to return it to the owner?

Spending without counting, owing debts everywhere,

Forgetting that in every transaction the essence is profit.

You are cunning, you are doing business with yourself,

Living by deception, you are already bankrupt,

When fate sends death with a scythe,

Where will you get an acceptable report?

Share your beauty with your children,

Not yet buried with you.

5. “The time that sculpted your appearance...”

The time that sculpted your appearance,

The kind that stops your eyes,

Will deal with your beauty,

Like an evil tyrant who knows no mercy;

Tireless flow of time

Leads to winter, to death from cold, summer:

Having picked the leaves and frozen the juice,

Gardens and land are painted white.

Only the one who can smell the roses

Capture and imprison in a vessel in the spring,

Keeping it in spirit, strengthened a hundredfold,

Will save you from complete destruction in winter.

Losing flesh, frozen flowers

The essence of beauty will remain in the perfume.

6. “Don’t let winter ruin summer...”

Don't let the winter in you ruin your summer,

Pour life-giving juice into the vessels;

Pass on your appearance like a relay race,

Until the beauty of the flower died.

So, by giving in interest, you do not destroy the soul,

He who lends money is happier than a spendthrift;

With their offspring, populating the land,

He takes a profit of ten to one.

Who are ten sons and ten grandchildren

Persuade when give life,

He will be happy, death will give up,

Seeing that the whole race cannot be destroyed.

Humble your temper, your appearance is perfection,

Don't leave it as an inheritance for the worms.

7. “Look how the blessed light…”

Look how the blessed light

Stands up, blazing with a proud head,

Greatness deserves the respect of people

And he led their glances behind him;

When the hill of heaven slowly ascended,

Like a strong man in the prime of his days,

From the ground they were admired by the eyes of sinners,

But they are still loyal people;

Having passed the zenith, it is on a chariot,

Like old age, I dragged myself into the sunset,

People, recently, betrayed faces,

They turned away, looking to the side.

You won’t get yourself a son at noon -

Alone, like the sun, you will meet the hour of death.

8. “The music itself makes you sad...”

Music itself - does music make you sad?

Pleasant is a joy to the pleasant,

Why do you love what you reproach for?

And glad to accept what brings annoyance?

Perhaps the reproach offends the strings,

Sung by them harmoniously and amicably:

“It was in vain that I didn’t want to get married on time -

You alone will be useless to anyone.”

Look how the strings are friends with each other -

This is how a mother and father sing, caressing their son,

They like to live and sing as a family,

Unity is the cause of bright joy.

“One is nothing!” - they sing without words.

9. “Afraid of moistening the widow’s eyes...”

Afraid to moisten the widow's eyes,

Is that why you live alone?

ABOUT! These excuses are not new.

By being childless you will punish the world cruelly.

He will forever be a mournful widow,

He needs your image revived,

Believe me, the widow will say goodbye with tears,

He will be comforted by seeing his husband in his son.

When the wealth of the ancestors is wasted,

It lives, having fallen into other hands,

Who doesn’t give beauty to children?

With her death he increases the world's torment.

Having loved neither women nor children

He kills his appearance like a villain.

10. “Shame on you! Don’t lie that you love someone..."

Shame on you! Don't lie that you love someone,

You are unreasonable towards yourself, like a spendthrift;

Surrounded by love, you will destroy

With his insane hatred, kind.

So obsessed with murderous passion,

That you are plotting against yourself.

Keep your home - the key to love and happiness,

Taking care of him is the main thing in fate.

Oh, change, so that I can change my mind!

Is hate really more important than love?

Be gracious, kind and affectionate.

Don’t argue with continuing the family line in children.

Respect me: live in this world

So that beauty goes to children.

11. “While you wither, your son blooms...”

While you wither, your son blooms,

In it, a part of you becomes stronger,

And the blood boils like a waterfall from the peaks,

You have the right to call her yours.

In fatherhood there is wisdom, beauty and growth,

Celibacy means frost and desolation.

If everyone was like you, they would go to the churchyard

All the people of the world are three generations away.

Let those whom nature created

Freaks - they will die from infertility,

She gave you a bountiful gift -

Share with your children and populate the land.

You were created by nature like a seal,

To repeat the appearance like an imprint.

12. “When the clock keeps track of the moments...”

When the clock counts the moments,

A beautiful day is extinguished by darkness,

The violet fades, and aging

The gray hair shines thicker and thicker,

Leaves fall from the trees at your feet,

They saved the herds in the summer heat,

Gifts from the fields on the roads along the road,

They are carried in sheaves with a thorny beard.

Then I feel sad, remembering my friend,

At the appointed hour the white light will leave,

Time does not spare us, cutting us off with a sickle,

Prepares a place for those following.

Only descendants will be able to argue with him,

When death takes you into the darkness.

13. “Oh, may you belong to yourself!..”

Oh, may you belong to yourself!

The living is allowed to control itself,

Hurry before you get tired of life,

Transfer your cute appearance to someone else

So that people enjoy beauty,

If you rent it, don’t be careless -

May your sweet appearance after death

Your descendants embody forever.

Who will let the cold into his beautiful home,

Let death bring him to ruin,

Will allow you to ruin, scrap,

When do you have the strength to put things in order?

Just one spendthrift! You are very similar to your father,

Let your son say the same.

14. “I don’t spend nights studying the stars...”

I don’t spend nights studying the stars,

But I’m still familiar with astronomy.

Not to predict good fortune

Feel the plague and hunger in your gut;

I am unable to give advice at every moment,

I will not point out rain and hail in fate,

Looking at the stars and planets,

I will not tell you the affairs of kings.

There is another reason for prophecies -

Your eyes managed to convince

That truth will be one with beauty,

When your image begins to live in your son.

And if you want to live differently -

The world will cry about beauty and truth.

15. “Everything that grows on earth...”

Everything that grows on earth

Only a moment is perfect;

On the stage of the world the stars rule

A performance incomprehensible to others;

Plants and people are related by order:

Everyone's growth depends on heaven,

Decline begins at the zenith,

Regression ends in oblivion.

The result of reflection is sadness from understanding:

My friend today is rich in youth,

But time, accelerating decay,

Strives to turn midday into sunset.

I love you, I’m glad to help you,

Whatever time takes away, I will return back.

16. “Why don’t you have the desire...”

Well, why don’t you have the desire of a Tyrant -

Time to pacify with war

And protect yourself from withering

More reliable than my barren verse?

Now you live at the peak of happiness,

Look how spacious the virgin gardens are,

They are ready for your participation

Repeat your look in fresh flowers.

Life, by this, updating it skillfully,

More precisely than a feather and your portrait

Will show people how to soul and body,

You were beautiful in the prime of your youth.

By giving yourself, you will save it in another

Yourself with loving, sweet skill.

17. “In the future they won’t believe even a page...”

In the future they won’t believe even a page,

Where the verse is filled with praise for you,

At least the sky sees that they are a tomb

For half of your virtues.

What if inspiration helps me?

To truthfully describe a portrait in verse,

The descendant will scream in indignation:

“There were no such handsome men, and no!”

Leafing through the yellowed pages,

Describing angelic faces,

The chatterbox passes off dreams as truth.”

That I am truthful, with my beauty

Your child will help you prove it.

18. “Should I compare you to a June day?...”

Should I compare you to a June day?

You are more beautiful and more moderate at the same time:

May storm deals with the flower,

Summer is given for a very short period of time;

Sometimes the heavenly eye burns too much,

But more often he modestly hides behind a cloud,

Beautiful is beautiful only for an hour,

Chance is capricious and strong in nature;

Your beauty belongs to centuries,

Neither winter nor summer spoil it,

Dragging a black shadow on your heels,

Death cannot kill my sonnets.

As long as people breathe and read,

They don't let you forget.

19. “Glutton of time, tear the tiger’s teeth...”

Glutton - Time, tear the tiger's teeth,

Dull the lion's claws, reducing strength;

Burn the Phoenix's flesh in his blood,

Return to the earth everything that it gave birth to;

Create in flight both December and May;

Do whatever you want, a quick moment,

Old and destroy the beauties of the world,

I only prohibit the crime:

Do not touch the brow of my love with a pen,

Protect yourself from the evil of days with a barrier,

Stop aging forever

Let him be an example for posterity.

And, however, harm, like others,

Young people will live in my poems.

20. “You were created by nature with a woman’s face...”

You were created by nature with a feminine face,

Both master and mistress at heart;

Tenderer than women in heart, but from birth

You live only by valuing constancy;

The eyes are clear, there is no game of deception in them,

Any object under your gaze is golden;

And to become yours is desirable for men,

And women are amazed by its beauty.

Nature created you as a woman,

But, having fallen in love, she created a man;

By adding what I don’t need right away,

Thus it was taken away from me forever.

I ask her: Give me without treachery

His love, and women - offspring.

21. “I’m not one of those enthusiastic poets...”

I'm not one of those whose muse inspires

Writing poetry is false beauty,

Who glorifies the charms of loved ones,

Using heaven in comparisons.

Without forgetting the wonders of land and sea,

He’ll also lie about spring flowers,

Having boasted, in unbridled enthusiasm,

Considered one of the rare pearls of beauty.

Let me be a sincere poet;

My young friend, I confess not jokingly,

Not as bright as the stars, but at the same time

Beautiful, like a child for a mother:

But I won't raise the price

Something that I do not intend to trade.

22. “The glass of mirrors will not convince you that you are old...”

The glass of mirrors will not convince you that you are old,

Until you are the same age as your youth,

When wrinkles deprive you of their charm,

Then a messenger will come to me about death.

Your beauty is like an outfit for the heart,

It is in you, yours is in me on the march,

Hearts, counting time to the beat, beat

So how can I be older than you?

So take care of yourself:

Our hearts are inseparable,

I carry yours in my chest for you,

Like a nanny, I take care of you tirelessly.

But don't expect to get it back

When what is mine is killed by deadly poison.

23. “How, timid, a bad actor becomes numb...”

How a bad actor remains silent, timid,

Forgetting the words of a long-familiar role,

Like a hot-tempered man, giving space to rage,

He brings himself to heartache;

So, timidly, I forgot my vows,

Having violated the rituals of lovers,

And it seems love is losing its ardor,

Overwhelmed by the burden of intensity.

Oh, let eloquence replace the look,

Let your heart speak to you through its eyes,

Once about love seeking rewards

They said more than language with words.

The ability to speak with a glance is in the blood.

24. “My eyes are skilled artists...”

My eyes are skilled artists

Your portrait was imprinted in my heart;

His body serves as a living frame,

There is no more reliable place for beauty,

After all, the glances of the eyes took into account the perspective,

Placing your image in my chest,

You lit up the room wonderfully,

Glazing through the windows in the workshop.

Now the eyes have mutual favors:

Mine - they painted your portrait,

But yours also took care of each other,

In my chest, like windows, letting in light.

It's a pity that, drawing a copy from the face,

The eyes cannot comprehend the hearts.

25. “May those to whom the constellations give happiness...”

May those to whom the constellations give happiness

They have money, title and honor.

My Fortune has closed the path to power,

The unknown man is happy with what life gives.

When caressing the sovereign, the favorites,

Like marigolds, they bloom in the sun,

He frowns and the joy of his retinue fades,

The bliss lasts for a few minutes.

A zealous warrior, a darling of fortune,

Broken, after a thousand victories,

From the former glory he will not receive change, -

All exploits will be immediately forgotten by the world.

Your beloved, glad to love you -

No one can deprive us of love.

26. “Beautiful lord of my love...”

Beautiful lord of my love,

I am your vassal, a loyal tributary to the grave,

Show mercy to the letter to the embassy,

There is only respect in him, a sharp mind of an exile.

He couldn't find worthy words,

The embassy will stand naked before you,

Don't persecute my ambassadors for this,

Warm your soul with your kindness.

Perhaps a guiding star

Show mercy, fulfill wishes,

Love will dress you up, I’ll prove it then,

That I'm worthy of your attention.

Having dared, I will boast of love,

Until then I won’t show up to you.

27. “Tired on the road, I hasten to go to bed...”

Tired of the journey, I hasten to go to bed,

Promising the desired rest to the body,

I touch the pillow - thoughts are like a blizzard,

Tiring the brain, let's get down to business

Dreams and thoughts set off on their way,

They fly towards you, piercing the distance of the night,

Preventing me from closing my eyes for a moment,

Like two blind men their eyes gaze into the darkness.

Imagination rushes to help the eyes,

Your ghost's blind eye sees clearly,

Like a diamond it lights up the night

Darkness, making it both young and beautiful.

So the legs are during the day, and the thought is at night,

Striving for you, they give me no rest.

28. “How can I return the state of happiness…”

How can I return the state of happiness?

After all, I don’t know the grace of rest:

Trying to rest from the hardships of the day,

Am I more tired at night?

Even though day and night are enemies to each other,

Torturing me, they shake hands:

The day brings you down with the bustle of the road,

And the night prevents sleep with the melancholy of separation.

To please, I repeat in bad weather: Day,

My friend today replaces the sun,

When the clouds hide the constellations in the shadows,

Instead, he decorates the darkness of the night.

But the days in response multiply my sorrows,

And the night gnaws more and more with melancholy.

29. “When, driven by anger and fate...”

When, driven by anger and fate,

Rejected and alone, I cry

Disturbing the sky with a complaint - a plea,

I’m wasting my energy on curses in vain,

I dream of being like all those

Whose valor does human opinion praise,

Being jealous, I get angry, I don’t drink, I don’t eat,

What makes me feel contempt for myself?

Repentant, suddenly remembering you,

I stop being jealous and angry,

My soul is in spite of a dashing fate,

Like a bird, it aspires to the sky with a song.

Then I, with the thought of your love,

Happier and richer than kings.

30. “When the judgment of silent, cherished thoughts ...”

When silent, cherished thoughts are judged

I evoke memories again, -

My mind grieves for what has not come true

And judges harshly for wasting years,

Then eyes that knew no tears

Are again flooded with tears:

I seriously groan from the torments of love,

Those who were my friends are priceless;

Grieving because of past grievances,

I am seriously ill, as I was once ill,

The sad account of suffering is not closed,

For every sin I double the payment

But when I think about you,

How grateful I am to fate again.

31. “Your chest is pounding people's hearts…»

People's hearts are beating in your chest,

Whom he did not consider to be alive anymore;

The love of friends now reigns there,

Lying under grave stones.

How many bitter, funeral tears

I stole love from my eyes in vain,

I grieved over the dead seriously,

Now I see their faces clearly in you!

You, like a crypt, contain all the love

My friends, both flighty and strict,

Taking their rights, you collect again

Those feelings that I wasted on many.

In you are all those whom you loved in the past,

You - with them - own me completely.

32. “Perhaps you will survive that day...”

Perhaps you will survive that day,

When Death buries the bones in the grave.

I hope you find and re-read

My poems, grieving in the graveyard.

Comparing them with the poems of the young,

Having found imperfection in my works,

You still save them in the archive -

In honor of the bliss we experienced.

Honor me with just one thought:

“If, friend, I were alive, there would be no embarrassment,

Today, appreciating a friend for his talent,

I would keep Muse as my favorite.

But he died, another new one rose,

I honor their style, and in it is his love.”

33. “More than once I have seen the tops of mountains...”

More than once I have seen the tops of mountains

On a beautiful morning the luminary honors,

Like a sovereign glance at the meadows,

Alchemy gilded the streams.

Freaks - clouds suddenly rolled in,

The sun allowed itself to be humiliated,

The godlike face faded behind the cloud,

It crawled away to the west unseen.

The earthly sun with the brilliance of wondrous eyes

My forehead lit up one morning.

Alas, it only shone for me for an hour,

Then the separation was hidden from view by a cloud.

And yet love does not despise him -

Even the sun cannot exist without spots.

34. “Why did you promise me a wonderful day...”

Why did you promise me a wonderful day,

He walked without a cloak, careless as a rake,

Evil clouds overtook, rain poured down,

Dividing us, an ugly curtain?

I won’t praise you for being through the fog

You will come to warm me with affection and flattery.

You, like a balm, will save me from wounds,

But you cannot heal from dishonor.

Your shame will not help me from grief,

Losses won't cover regrets

When you carry a heavy cross of grievances,

Sympathy is a poor consolation.

But the tears that I shed out of compassion

They made you forget your deeds.

35. “Don’t torment yourself with sadness for an old sin...”

Don’t torment yourself with sadness for an old sin:

Roses have thorns, there is sand in the source,

Both the sun and the moon are darkened by clouds,

A nasty worm crawled into the bud.

Nobody is holy, and in the sonnets I am a sinner -

Gave legitimacy to your affairs,

Justified: My friend is hasty in words,

And your sin elevated you above others.

Gave reason to your misdeeds,

How a lawyer justified guilt

I judged myself, I made concessions to you,

Love and hate are at war within me.

It turns out that I unwittingly helped,

To the one who shamelessly stole from me.

36. “Let me admit that we are divided...”

Let me admit that we are divided

Although we are still united in love,

I alone bear the dishonor of guilt,

There is no reason to disgrace you.

In love we have one attachment,

And everyone has their own evil from birth,

Love won't touch you too much

But it will steal hours from pleasure.

So as not to bring shame on you,

I won’t show that we know each other personally;

So that your honor is not hurt by reproach,

And don't acknowledge me publicly.

Take care of yourself, you are everything in life;

Both your life and honor are dear to me.

37. “How happy the old man, the father, is about his son’s success...”

How happy the old man is the father for his son’s success,

The culminating deeds of youthful days,

So, wounded by Fortune without cause,

I will console myself with your faithfulness.

After all, beauty, wealth, intelligence and fame,

On top of that, a noble family

Fate has rightfully given you

Add my love to the number of bounties.

I will forget everything: poverty and contempt,

Seeing how happy and rich you are,

Content with only a shadow of these benefits,

I will be glad to live part of your glory.

I will be happy to find in you

All the best that exists in human destiny.

38. “How can a muse hesitate for even a moment…”

How can the Muse hesitate even for a moment,

When are my poems full of you?

You are so beautiful that I feel admiration

A simple sheet of paper cannot express itself.

Thank yourself when in a sonnet

You will find something to fix your eye on,

Well, who is so stupid as not to become a poet,

When do you lift him up to Parnassus?

So become a muse ten times stronger

What were the other nine before?

Let everyone who takes it, flaming,

Will create a great and immortal verse.

And if my sonnet deserves fame,

Give me the work, your praise is rightfully yours.

39. “Oh, how to sing of your virtues...”

Oh, how to sing your virtues,

When are you the best part of me?

My praises to you and my praises,

How can I not become proud when I praise you?

To do this you will have to live apart,

Let the departure of love diminish the glory,

But I can praise more worthy,

I will give you the honor that is rightfully deserved.

Separation, you would be torture,

Whenever in the hours of dreary leisure

Didn't give me sweet freedom

Devote all your time to dreams of a friend.

I'm reducing the time in two,

Praising the one who is far from me.

40. “Take my loves, every single one of them...”

Take my loves, every one of them,

Taking away all your passions, will you become richer?

The one you called true, my friend,

Now yours, everyone else, even more so.

If he took love, breaking the harmony of friendship,

I don’t blame you for what I love,

Now, if you were deceived, it’s your fault

Indulging your capricious tastes.

I forgive your robbery, my dear thief,

Even though you appropriated what I own,

But all the blows of hatred are nonsense,

Love hits us both harder and more painfully.

In you, even evil seems good to me,

Kill with offense, but don't be an enemy.

41. “In misdeeds, he is self-willed according to his years...”

In misdeeds he is self-willed over the years.

When I'm not near and in your heart

Temptations are on your heels

Both day and night they follow the world

You are young and kind - compliance is in your blood,

That is why you are besieged;

When a woman wants love,

Who would want to deny her affection?

And you, my friend, did not defeat temptation,

Youth is dissolute in its thirst for pleasure,

You, in your rampage, broke two loyalties,

When he took over my possessions:

Having pushed her to betrayal with beauty,

Yours - violating friendship, a sacred duty.

42. “Not all the sadness that you have is…”

Not all the sadness that you have is

Which reigned in my chest;

What’s more painful is that, having taken possession of you,

She killed your love for me.

By forgiving your sin, I can justify you:

You love, knowing that I love your friend,

She wants to become even more desirable -

With love, bringing joy to a friend.

They are the owners of my two losses:

Beloved friend in the arms of his beloved,

The beloved now owns it,

I carry one, the cross of unbearable pain.

I can console myself with only one thing:

He and I are one, it turns out, I love him.

43. “The tighter I close my eyes, the sharper my gaze…”

The tighter I close my eyes, the sharper my gaze,

My eyes are not happy with anything during the day,

When I fall asleep, the closed ones look

In the darkness, looking for you.

But if the shadow is brighter than the day for them,

Then your image does not know your rivals,

In the light of the sun you will blind me,

Since a dream shines so much in the darkness!

What a joy it would be for the eyes

To see you with my own eyes on a clear day,

If with pleasure in dreams, after an hour - an hour,

They look at the unsteady image at night.

While we are apart, my days are darker than nights,

In a dream I will see that the nights are brighter than the days.

44. “Be a thought – flesh, any distances...”

Be a thought - flesh, any distances

I would overcome dreams with ease,

Pierced space, driven by desire

Get to where you are.

I wouldn't care what they gave

We are shared at this moment with you,

Neither land nor sea could hold

Me from meeting with joyful fate.

Alas, unfortunately, my flesh is wingless,

Earth and water make up the essence,

Giving strength to complaints and groans,

They prevent you from conquering the path instantly.

Slow, didn’t give anything,

For me, except for the heavy tears of my sadness.

45. “Light air and fire will help...”

When they go to you

Messengers of my love and faith,

The other two live with me in struggle,

Tormented by melancholy beyond measure.

The despondency will last until

Until the ambassadors bring an answer:

“Your worries about me, friend, are nonsense -

I’m alive, healthy and sending you greetings.”

Having listened to them, at first I will be glad,

Then, sadly, I will send you back.

46. ​​“Don’t break out of the vicious circle...”

Don't break out of the vicious circle

The debate between the eyes and the heart dragged on:

The eyes deprive the heart of its rights to a friend,

And the heart deprives the eye of these rights.

It insists that it is inaccessible to view,

The eyes hide your image from the heart,

Then, having decided to end their strife,

The brain took on the task of acting as a judge.

Jury from thoughts, showed will,

And, having weighed everything, she made a verdict:

We give everyone a share

And with this we stop the stupid argument.

Since then, the eyes and heart have been in harmony again:

Love honors the heart, appearance values ​​the look.

47. “Now the eyes and heart are in harmony again...”

Now the eyes and heart are in harmony again,

They help each other with services,

When your eyes are sad from hunger

And my heart faints from melancholy.

The eyes feast, looking at the portrait,

And they invite the heart to be satisfied,

But there is no refusal to the eyes either,

When my heart dreams of you.

Thanks to the portrait and dreams

You, being far away, are always with me.

Wherever you go, your thoughts are there,

I am with thoughts, and therefore with you.

And my thoughts sleep - my eyes dream of you again,

The look shares the joy with the heart in half.

48. “It’s time to hit the road…”

It's time to hit the road

I locked the trinkets away

Now he won’t be able to reach out to them,

A dishonest thief sneaks into the house.

All the diamonds in front of you are trash,

Was a consolation, and now sadness:

I'm scared to trust you with locks,

And it’s a pity to leave a thief as prey.

I'll have to lock it in my chest,

Where are you forever, although you are not there,

The doors are open, you can come in,

And you can leave at any time.

49. “When the hour of insight comes to you...”

When the hour of insight comes to you,

You will see the flaws in my soul,

Having seen her love without embellishment,

Will begin to change his dreams and plans;

Deciding it was time to draw the line,

You will pass without words, barely touching with your gaze,

And you will stand aloof a mile away,

Not wanting to stand next to me,

I will understand your coldness and make up my mind

Tell yourself that I am worth the punishment,

I'll raise my hand and swear,

That both the law and the truth are behind you.

You have the right to leave blaming,

Because there is no reason to love me.

50. “How hard is the path when at its end...”

How hard the path is when at the end

Not an idle holiday with a long-awaited friend,

And a sad smile on your face

The horse, feeling it, barely runs,

Tired of carrying me and my grief,

In no hurry to multiply the distance,

That's why he doesn't want to speed up his running.

Spurs' blows don't help either,

When, angry, I stab a horse in the sides,

He moans quietly, listening to the reproach,

I myself suffer more than a horse.

I ask her: don’t judge her for her spurs,

After all, joy is behind, sorrow is ahead.

51. “I justified the slowness of the horse...”

I justified the slowness of the horse,

Having not experienced enmity towards him for laziness:

There is no need to rush before returning.

But how can he justify himself?

When will the speed stop for me?

I'm ready to give spurs to the wind,

So that he flies even faster forward.

Thought will not catch up with the best horse,

The flesh cannot catch up with desire.

Rushing towards you faster than fire

The horse's love will help justify:

He ran from his friend, slowing down the trot,

I'm rushing to him, and you don't rush.

52. “I am like a rich man whose key is blessed...”

I'm like a rich man whose key is blessed

Open paths to the rarest treasures,

He rarely goes to meet them,

So that the moment of meeting is always the sweetest.

Solemn holidays in a row

Harsh everyday life is an exception everywhere,

They are rare and look like a year,

Like large diamonds in jewelry.

This is how time hides from me

You, like a dress, into the black closet of separation,

So I'm glad for the brightness of the day,

Which stops the torment in the morning.

You also give me holidays of dates,

And everyday life of endless expectations.

53. “What substance are you born with…”

What substance were you born from?

The only one, besides the personal shadow,

You have a million in your service

Shadows of living and dead generations?

Look at the bust of Adonis, you are him,

From you, the great creator sculpted it,

The beauty of Elena ancient world smitten

But she, too, is you in a Greek tunic.

Everywhere, looking closely, I see you:

In spring you amaze with beauty,

And in the harvest I recognize, loving -

Only he can match your generosity.

In every beauty there is a part of you,

You don't let consistency go to waste.

54. “Beauty seems priceless to us...”

Beauty seems priceless to us,

In which virtue flourishes,

A rose has a more seductive mouth,

When the aroma hovers over them.

Rosehip is attractive in appearance,

The thorns are sharp, the flowers grow no less often,

The color is not inferior to roses,

It would seem that the advantages are still the same.

However, they are deprived

With attention, without glory they die,

And sweet roses are so valuable

That the smell doesn't even kill death.

The infusion of perfume preserves their aroma,

Like my sonnet in the line your youthful appearance.

55. “And marble, and sarcophagi of tyrants...”

And marble, and sarcophagi of tyrants

A mighty verse will easily survive,

Your image will not fade on paper,

When the dirt erases the inscriptions from the stones.

Let war and rebellion multiply ruins,

Let the statues of leaders fall in the struggle, -

The sword of Mars and fire will not destroy

There are lines about you in my sonnets.

In spite of fires, death and strife

They will carry your image for centuries,

Descendants will glorify the appearance in chorus,

Until God's judgment stops.

Rising from the dead on the terrible day of judgment,

You will find out that you have always lived in poetry.

56. “My love, renew your ardor...”

My love, renew your ardor,

Don't let me tell you that my appetite is sharper,

He will overeat so much that the white light is not nice,

Tomorrow he will get up twice as hungry.

Be the same: enjoy today

To the point of satiety, to the point of unwillingness to meet,

The next morning, strive for hugs again,

Pepper your yesterday's lethargy.

Spend the hours of separation in melancholy,

It's like there are oceans between us

When you are waiting for a meeting on the sea sand,

Then they are especially desirable.

On a frosty day, the summer heat is more desirable.

57. “What can a slave do? Serve and wait..."

What can a slave do? Serve and wait

When you want to give an order.

I don't mind wasting time,

The purpose of life is to fulfill your desires.

I'm afraid to grumble about the endless torment,

Counting the days and nights in anticipation.

I don’t dare curse the hours of separation,

When you send me into exile for no reason.

And in my thoughts I don’t dare to ask a question,

Where can you be and who is around in a crowd,

How they wait for warmth, chilled in the frost,

So I dream of meeting you.

Love is stupid, I’m ready to forgive again,

I don’t find anything bad in your deeds.

58. “God, who made me your slave...”

God, who made me your slave,

Didn't give me the right to demand an account:

When and who comes to your house

Share fun and care with you.

I am your vassal, my role is sad -

In the prison of separation, wait for orders,

Tolerate rejection, don't blame for pain,

To endure insults and bitter humiliations.

Be where you want, free to decide for yourself,

What to do with business or fun,

You both blame and forgive yourself,

For mortal sins you have the right.

Whether those entertainments are bad or good,

I wait without judging, even though it is torment.

59. “If everything is old, then new is just repetition...”

If everything is old, then new is just repetition.

The mind has been deluded since ancient times,

Passes off to us as a new creation

The one who was born a long time ago!

Oh, if I could, once in the archives,

From ancient books that have lived for five centuries,

Find out how our ancestors patiently

You were depicted with a script of words.

Reading the books of the ancient poet,

To understand who sang beauty better.

Did we do it better?

Or there is a limit to perfection too.

I'm sure he's ahead of me

He praised those who were not so beautiful.

60. “The wave pushes the wave in the back...”

The wave pushes the wave in the back,

While it carries onto the stones of the shore,

So the minutes before your death

They rush forward in a stubborn line.

Everyone is crawling towards maturity birthday,

Barely having time to look at God's light.

Aging begins at its zenith -

Time has no mercy for the living.

The color of youth in its prime pierces,

Wrinkles disfigure the forehead,

He eats all the best in nature,

Cutting off everything that has bloomed with an oblique.

And yet I hope that while praising beauty,

I will save her from time in verse.

61. “Is it by your will that your image at night...”

Is it your will that your sweet image

Doesn't my heavy eyelids keep me from closing?

You send me shadows similar to you,

My eyes trying to deceive?

Or maybe it's your invisible spirit

Sent to spy on me

Tries to check a false rumor

Perhaps jealousy is ruling you?

Oh no! Your love is not so strong;

My love doesn't let me close my eyes,

Imposing the guardian role she

It also prevents me from resting at night.

Disturbs with a thought sharp as a blade:

He is close to others, but far from me.

62. “The sin of selfishness has become the ruler of the eyes...”

The sin of selfishness has become the ruler of the eyes,

Soul and flesh are now his possessions,

So deeply rooted in the heart,

That there is no healing for me from him.

I can’t find a more beautiful face,

The figure is graceful, the spirit is full of nobility,

When I judge my merits,

I see superiority over others.

When the mirror shows me

Shabby, gray and wrinkled,

Then I repeat, blaming myself for the sin:

Self-love in men is monstrous.

I praise you, I boast in myself about you,

Decorating old age with youthful beauty.

63. “When my friend reaches my age...”

When my friend comes into my age

Broken and battered by fate,

The blood will be exhausted, it will become like water,

The blue morning will go to sunset.

The old woman will knock on the door,

The royal colors will now fade,

And on top of all the other losses

Beauty, like the color of spring, will leave him.

Trying to protect from these years,

I'm in a hurry to build a fortification,

When the knife of old age wants to cut off the color,

I will save the beautiful appearance from oblivion.

The protection will be a black line

In it the image of a friend will be from the youth of the century.

64. “Time’s hand is merciless...”

Time's hand is merciless:

There is no mercy for wealth and pride,

And a tower that has stood for centuries,

And he will overturn the bronze of eternal statues;

I see how hungry the ocean is

The kingdom of land is attacked by water,

And the waves destroy the shore like a battering ram -

The balance of captures and losses is equal;

The sequence of these changes

Suggests that everything will end in failure,

Losses teach you to think: decay is terrible,

At the appointed hour, love will destroy you in one fell swoop.

This thought makes me want to cry

About what you have, but are afraid to lose.

65. “Once bronze, stone, solid earth and sea...”

Once bronze, stone, the firmament of the earth and the sea -

All the frailty of existence will destroy into dust,

How to survive beauty in an unequal dispute

It has no more durability than flowers.

How can the breath of summer last?

Finding yourself under siege by merciless days,

When even the rocks can't do it,

Iron gates are no stronger.

The thought is frightening: there are no reliable shelters,

Where should I store my diamond from Time?

Who can hold back the flow of events?

And protect beauty from damage?

No one has performed such a miracle

I will save her in ink - I will be the first.

66. “Charter, I appeal to death: - No patience!

Tired, I appeal to death: - No patience!

Dignity from birth in poverty,

Dressed up nonentity in fun,

Faith is forgotten in the bustle,

And honor is not given according to deserts,

And the virtue of the century, mocking, corrupted,

And they slandered perfection with rumors,

And the ruler turned power into weakness,

And knowledge is guided by whim,

And servility called honesty foolishness,

And evil orders good to serve.

Tired of living like this, I would have left before the deadline,

I'm afraid to leave love alone.

67. “Why should he live among vices...”

Why should he live among vices,

Decorating them with your presence,

So that grave sin, hiding from reproaches,

Have you connected yourself even more firmly with him?

Why does the color of dead colors imitate

The blush of his cheeks, he is tenderly red,

Why does deception decorate ugliness?

Taking his face as an ideal?

Why should he live when Nature

Having wasted blood for a long time already bankrupt,

Its treasury is getting smaller every year,

Does he live only by what he takes from him?

She keeps it off the pedestal

Show us what you used to have.

68. “He is a model for the people of days gone by...”

He is a model for the faces of days gone by,

When beauty lived and died,

Like the color of spring, and fashion is the foreheads of people

She did not decorate with borrowed beauty.

Then they didn’t cut the hair of the dead yet,

The curl was the property of the grave,

Curled hair in the form of wigs,

They didn’t put it on the head of the cute one.

The grace of other centuries is visible in him,

At that time beauty was healthy,

Didn't look young by robbing old people,

Creating spring, from the youth of another.

Friend is an example of the beauty that reigned before,

So that her art of falsehood can be seen.

69. “Your appearance delights the world...”

Your appearance delights the world,

Everything is perfect: the gait, the stance, the grip,

All languages ​​say that you are an idol

And the worst enemy does not see the shortcomings.

All those who glorified the flesh with praise,

They gave only what was due

But their speech was completely different,

When I touched an invisible soul.

Seeing the beauty of your soul,

She was measured by deeds in guesswork;

After thinking everything over, the traders decided:

The flower is good, but it smells like weeds.

What is the cause of all the problems?

Only in the fact that you bloom, accessible to everyone.

70. “Blame for sins, libel gives a lesson...”

Blaming for sins, slander gives a lesson:

Beauty is the target of slander;

Her hint tarnishes her with guesses -

Like a raven flies in the blue sky.

When you are handsome, gossip has a reason

To insist that you indulge temptations,

The worm spoils the sweetest bud -

You embody the purity of dawn.

You've passed the pitfalls of your younger days

And emerged victorious from the battles,

Expect stronger attacks in the future,

All the past is a deposit of envy.

On the forehead there is a shadow of suspicion, like a crown.

You would be the king of hearts without her.

71. “When I die, mourn me...”

When I die, mourn me

No longer than with church bells

They will call that he ran away, cursing

For the meanness of the world, now in the ground with worms.

Reading these sad words

Don't remember me - I'm not worth it,

I love you so much that I give you rights

Having forgotten me, do not suffer from longing.

And if you look by chance

In my poems, when I mix with clay,

Don’t remember the poet’s name out loud -

Let love die with my death.

When I die, hide my sadness and tears,

So that the world does not ridicule you for crying.

72. “So that the evil world does not demand an account...”

So that the evil world does not demand an account,

How he loved me, knowing my disposition,

If I die, forget why you care,

You can't prove that you were right

Bye, my praising properties,

You won't call on lies to help you,

All your persistence will be in vain,

You cannot elevate me above the truth.

And so that lies don’t dare to dirty us

And you, praising me, did not hide your eyes,

Let the name be buried with the body,

So that it can no longer disgrace us.

I'm offended by the wretchedness of my affairs -

You should be ashamed to love me.

73. “You see the season in me...”

In me you see the season

When the yellow leaf became rare,

From trembling branches, in bad weather,

The bird whistle is no longer heard.

In me you see the age of the day,

When the light goes out at sunset,

The likeness of death and oblivion -

The night paints the sky black.

In me you see decay

Golden fire in the bed,

Will extinguish the bright light

He is food that has become ash.

Seeing this, you understand:

The sweetest thing is what you lose.

74. “Don’t cry when the convoy comes for me...”

Don't cry when the convoy comes for me

And he will take you away without the right to return,

After all, my life will continue in a line

Your favorite poem.

After re-reading it, you will see it again

All that belonged only to you -

Poet's endless love,

The earth will receive what is due to it.

You are losing the waste of life - dust,

He is lawful prey for worms.

All the best will remain in poetry,

It’s in vain that we whine when we lose our body.

There is no price in it, because what we create is valuable,

And creativity will remain yours.

75. “For thoughts you are like food for the stomach...”

For thoughts you are like food for the stomach,

Like bells for the earth in the heat of thunder,

With love I fight in earnest,

I toil with her like misers with riches:

They are happy to enjoy them,

Then again they tremble from the fear of losing;

I, like them, hide your name,

I’m glad to glorify it to the whole world with poetry.

Sometimes fed up with the feast of communication,

After parting, I start to starve

And ready again for a moment of solitude

Give away other pleasures.

Sometimes I waste away, sometimes I overeat,

While I love, I am either a rich man or a beggar.

76. “Why do I deprive my verse of decorations...”

Why do I deprive my verse of decorations,

Variety, quick change of topics,

I don’t study trends, currents,

The latest opinions, styles and issues?

Why do I always write the same thing?

I dress up my imagination in old times,

My words are so similar to each other,

That I find fatherhood in everyone?

My love, this is why everything is not new,

That I dedicated poems only to you,

Along with the new, decorating the word,

I'm spending what I've paid for many times over.

Like the morning sun, both old and new,

So love repeats everything again.

77. “The mirror will show how youth fades…”

The mirror will show how youth fades,

A watch is the movement of precious minutes,

On a blank sheet of paper a thought will appear in a blue line,

After reading it, readers will understand:

That their wrinkles are in truthful mirrors

A hint that the grave awaits everyone;

The shadow will help in tireless hours,

Comprehend how time flows towards eternity.

And everything that memory cannot hold,

Trust the blank pages and then,

One day, having discovered cute children,

Remember the thought born of the mind.

Clocks and mirrors, having caught your gaze,

Both the book and your mind will be enriched.

78. “I have often called upon you as a muse...”

I have often called upon you as a muse,

You began to inspire sonnets,

Envying the emerging union,

All the poets began to imitate me.

Your eyes taught the dumb to sing,

And grave ignorance is to fly,

Scientists have fledged wings,

Grace was given to grace.

Be most proud of what I create,

After all, everything that’s mine was born by you,

Other style creations decorate,

But fate has given me more.

For me you are all my art,

And the most sublime feeling.

79. “While I was writing about you alone...”

While I was writing about you alone,

The verse amazed with the grace of its grasp,

Now the sick Muse is tormented by spleen,

That's why my poetry is in decline.

I admit: there is no nicer topic,

While I remain silent, the worthy rejoice,

But everything that another poet writes,

He steals from you, my friend.

When he talks about virtue,

You give inspiration with your behavior,

All that is said about your beauty -

It belongs to you from the day you are born.

He, my friend, is not worth your praise,

You paid for everything he said.

80. “When I write about a friend...”

When I write a sonnet about a friend,

Praising him leaves me speechless,

Having bound the tongue, the power of another -

I am not able to give a worthy answer.

Your soul is as wide as the ocean,

I am equally glad about the ship and the shaky boat.

The ship is mighty, but I'm preparing for battle -

Rooks fearless daring captain.

Your support is important to me now,

The ship at depth is confident in itself.

When the trace of a broken boat is lost,

It remains a joy to the eyes.

The ship is sailing, the boat is broken into dust,

The worst thing is that love will also collapse.

81. “If I live, I’ll come to bury...”

If I live, I’ll come and bury you,

If you survive, you will come to the funeral,

A poem about you cannot kill death -

Complete oblivion will befall me.

Poems will bring you immortality,

I will have to die for the world

The grave will be payment for sins,

And you will remain an idol in the eyes;

Poems will be placed on a pedestal,

Descendants will read or hear them,

They will translate into a future language,

When all those who are now breathing die.

The pen will help until the end of days,

You will live in people's mouths for centuries.

82. “You are not related by marriage to my Muse...”

You are not related to my Muse by marriage,

This means you can safely accept

All the dedications, you don't have to

Bless everyone who writes for them.

You are perfect in both mind and body,

You think that I didn't appreciate you,

Therefore, I replaced them with those who boldly

This article is about poetic form. Read about the cellular operator in the article “Sonet (cellular operator)”. Contents 1 Structural features of a classic sonnet ... Wikipedia

- (Italian sonnetto, French sonnet). A form of poem consisting of 14 pentameter, mostly iambic, lines in four stanzas. There is a small song in music. Dictionary of foreign words included in the Russian language. Chudinov A.N., 1910. SONNET... ... Dictionary of foreign words of the Russian language

sonnet- (from Italian sonette song) poetic form: a poem of 14 lines, consisting of two quatrains (quatrains) and two tercets (tercets). It arose in Sicily in the 13th century, later F. Petrarch, Dante, W. Shakespeare turned to this form... ... Dictionary of literary terms

This article or section needs revision. Please improve the article in accordance with the rules for writing articles... Wikipedia

Andrey Nikolaevich Gorbunov Occupation: philologist, teacher, protodeacon Date of birth: January 31, 1940 (1940 01 31) (72 years old) ... Wikipedia

This article or section needs revision. Please improve the article in accordance with the rules for writing articles. English literature literature ... Wikipedia

Books

• SONNETS. Translated by Konstantin Zholudev, William Shakespeare. This book presents to the reader modern translations of all Shakespeare's sonnets by Konstantin Zholudev. The translator was guided by the desire to translate Shakespeare’s immortal works as...

And you, in love with your beauty,
Giving all the best juices to her,
You turn abundance into poverty, -
Your worst enemy, soulless and cruel.

You are the decoration of today,
Herald of short-lived spring, -
The future is buried in its infancy,
You combine stinginess with waste.

Sparing the world, do not consign it to the ground
Have a wonderful harvest in the coming years!

Sonnet 8
You are music, but to musical sounds
You listen with incomprehensible melancholy.
Why do you love something that is so sad?
Do you meet torment with such joy?

Where is the secret reason for this torment?
Isn't that why you're overcome with sadness?
What harmoniously coordinated sounds
Do they sound like a reproach to loneliness?

Listen to how friendly the strings are
They get into formation and give their voice, -
As if mother, father and young boy
They sing in happy unity.

The agreement of the strings in a concert tells us,
That the lonely path is like death.

Sonnet 9
Probably, fearing widow's tears,
You have not tied yourself to anyone with love.
But if a terrible fate took you away,
The whole world would put on a widow's veil.

In her child, a mournful widow
Favorite traits are reflected.
And you don't leave the creature,
In which the light would find solace.

The wealth that the spendthrift squanders
Changing place, remains in the world.
And beauty will flash without a trace,
And youth, having disappeared, will not return.

Who betrays himself -
Doesn't love anyone in this world!

Sonnet 10
Tell me honestly: who do you love?
You know, many people love you.
But so carelessly you ruin your youth,
What is clear to everyone is that you live without loving.

Your fierce enemy, not knowing regret,
You destroy secretly day after day
Magnificent, waiting for renewal,
The house you have inherited.

Change - and I will forgive the insult,
Warm up love in your soul, not enmity.
Be as gentle as you are beautiful in appearance,
And become more generous and kind to yourself.

Let beauty live not only now,
But he will repeat himself in his beloved son.

Sonnet 131
You are full of whims and love power,
Like all arrogant beauties.
You know that my blind passion
He considers you a precious gift.

Let them say that your dark appearance
Tears of love's languor are not worth it, -
I do not dare to enter into an argument with rumors,
But I argue with her in my imagination.

To assure yourself to the end
And prove the absurdity of these fables,
I swear to tears that the dark complexion
And the black color of your hair is beautiful.

The trouble is not that you have a dark complexion, -
It's not you who are black, it's your deeds that are black!

Sonnet 132
I love your eyes. They me
The forgotten one is truly pitied.
Burying a rejected friend
They wear black as mourning.

Believe me, the shine of the sun does not suit
To the face of the gray early east,
And that star that leads the evening to us -
Transparent skies western eye -

Not so radiant and not so bright,
Like this gaze, beautiful and farewell.
Oh, if only you clothed my heart
In the same mourning, soft and sad,

I would think that beauty itself
Black as night, and brighter than light - darkness!

1590s
Translation publ. 1948

© Gol N. M., translation, 2017

© “Helikon Plus”, layout, 2017

1

We all dream of beauty
Didn't know any fatal damage.
Withered, the rose falls from the bush,
But fresh buds are blooming.

You are betrothed to your beauty.
You are your own enemy, even though you don’t know it.
At the same time a rose and a bud,
In yourself you burn yourself.

In the midst of abundance you sow hunger,
Spring flower, decoration of the world,
But where we talk about the secrets of beauty,
It is not the miser who gets rich, but the spender.

The miser, having faded, will not bloom again -
He, like the grave, will devour everything and everyone.

2

When forty winters begin to attack,
Driving siege trenches along the forehead,
What can you say to your friends?
"I was beautiful"? - much more stupid.

After all, it will be clearly visible to everyone,
How time takes over mortal flesh
And an exquisite outfit of youth
It turns into cast-offs, into rags.

And you will remain silent. I wish I could live smarter
I could say: “The child became the result
And my years and my beauty
And an excuse for all earthly anxieties,

And, becoming more decrepit every day,
I remain forever young in it.”

3

Looking at your own reflection,
Tell yourself: "It's about time
Create a living sequel of it,
Making my friend happy at the same time:

After all, the uncultivated womb thirsts
Deep plowing to receive the grain.
Only a madman resists the law,
The one who orders himself to be recreated.”

You are a mirror for your mother: after all, now
Her spring is reflected in you,
And you will see your spring day in your son,
Looking out of old age as if from a window.

Or do you wish for death to come,
Curtaining the mirrors forever?

4

You are incredibly rich in beauty,
But you're not using it the right way.
Nature does not bestow - it contributes
And you have the right to expect dividends from your deposit.

And you, you scumbag, took it all to yourself,
I didn’t pay it back, and here’s the problem:
You will completely devalue your capital,
Making deals with yourself.

When Nature calls you -
You can’t fool her, there’s no doubt -
What kind of financial report will you give?
To the world's harshest lender?

Rich man, you will leave life like a bankrupt,
And everything that you have acquired will go to the grave with you.

5

Hurrying in a clockwise circle,
Time creates masterpieces first,
Then, mocking this beauty,
Destroys without any sadness.

We inhale the scent of fresh flowers,
And Time sews a shroud for all living things.
Summer will fly by; incense garden
Inexorably he will face winter.

The greenery will decay, the blizzards will howl,
Flowers lie under the snow, as if in a grave...
But you can extend the summer with cunning,
The flower infusion is imprisoned in a bottle.

So we can deceive Time:
The appearance has changed, but the essence remains unchanged.

6

Winter with its merciless hand
Summer will choke you, but for now
It's not too late for the elixir of summer days
Fill the womb of the waiting vessel.

And don’t be sad about what you pawned:
The higher the rate for the collateral,
The more undoubtedly you will become rich -
You give a little, but you get a lot.

Recreating himself, everyone is right.
He, having gone nowhere, will not sink into darkness,
But, having passed on the burden of inheritance to the children,
Children will become ten times richer,

And the one who is stubborn in his willfulness,
Everything will be handed over to the cemetery worms.

7

When the sun rises, with imperious force
Having gilded the space with a fire of curls,
To the infant-beautiful luminary
People turn their gaze with delight.

When it overcomes the heavenly hill,
Light pours out to us from the zenith,
How not to say about the grown-up luminary:
“Here is a man in the prime of his mature years!”

When it goes away at the end of the day,
Limping, leaves the firmament,
Then everyone inevitably looks away,
Although he knows: it will rise again.

But you - if you don’t start
An heir - you will leave and not rise.

8

You're as good as the music itself
But why, it’s a wonder to my friends,
With all the power of a cold mind
Are you resisting the reciprocal motive?

The secret of consonance is in the combination of notes.
The pattern will not be embroidered with consent,
When one sings alone,
The other one doesn’t hear hers and doesn’t hear the first one.

What will be born is not a melody, but nonsense.
But with the sweetest music in the world
There will be a union of two strings, two souls,
When the strings of children sing along with them.

How long does one string sing?
It will break prematurely.

9

Foreseeing in advance for the wife
Widow's sadness, you don't want to get married
And you think that children are not needed -
Why should orphans languish in sorrow?

The spendthrift will give everything he has to others in full -
Your wealth will decay without a trace.
Life becomes a widow - not just one wife,
Not children - the whole earth will be orphaned.

Your image could, without fading,
The family glows with a living spark,
And lonely, you will leave the world,
Burying the fire of love with you.

So you will create pity in the name
Villainy against oneself and others.

10

What should I talk about love with you?
When you don't understand it one iota?
Have you been loved – and often? May be.
But you yourself don’t love anyone.

Who puts the joy of life at nothing,
He himself will make it cost little.
Shame and shame! You're destroying what
What should be tirelessly built!

Is it a pity to waste the flame of your heart on strangers?
I will answer this argument, which is too weak:
Since you don't know how to love others -
At least try to feel sorry for yourself.

Then, sincerely loving your appearance,
You want to repeat yourself in your children.

11

Inevitably fading over the years,
We bloom brighter and more generously -
But this tread of Time is double
Known only to those who have children.

Not pouring blood into procreation
Will disappear in three times twenty years,
And the cold of hopelessness
Pitch darkness will be clothed with white light.

The one who is ugly in mind and article,
Let him beware of giving birth,
You are a ring with a noble seal,
And Nature is waiting for your imprints.

And if you don't leave a mark,
In the darkness of death you will perish without a trace.

12

When I hear the rhythmic "tick-tock"
Drives the dawn to meet darkness,
And I see how the flower withered and how
The tar of her curls were covered with gray hair,

When the leafless branches along the path
Can't hold back the autumn rains, tears
When the white-bearded sheaves
Piled up in sad carts, -

I think: isn’t this the one waiting for you?
Are you finished? Do you foresee it?
The sickle of Time will mercilessly reap
All your charms and all your beauties.

That one - only that one! - will forever extend its life,
Whoever leaves the new one will escape.

13

You are you, but only for a short time:
No longer than the days of earth last.
So that your unique appearance can
And after death to remain among the living,

You must, mindful of your
The impending inevitable death,
Leave the children alone in the world -
Appear in a daughter, incarnate in a son.

Mad is the one who doesn't want to save
Yourself from the approaching threat
And he doesn’t want to put a stove in the house,
Forgetting about the deadly frosts.

Don’t let the fierce cold get to you!
You are your father's son, so become a father to someone!

14

I'm not an astrologer or an astrologer,
But I can still make predictions.
No, not about when luck awaits,
When - plague, famine and thunderstorms;

I can't predict what will happen tomorrow
And how will things go with those in power,
And I’m not looking at the night sky,
To foresee the course of times to come:

I want two stars from your radiant eyes
They broadcast, driving away the darkness,
That perfection will live among us,
Entirely embodied in your descendant.

And if you don’t leave offspring -
You will leave the whole world without perfection.

15

Everything that grows will die in due course, right?
Escape, youthful growth reaching to the sky,
Will rot at the end of the universal performance,
Presented by the direction of the stars.

And people from above have been given the same order,
He is in every human destiny:
Infancy – rise – flourishing – decline -
Death - and the memory of you disappeared.

How brutally destructive the years are
The day of youth is transformed into night!
But perhaps, having despised the law of Nature,
We can help each other through friendship,

And, having become a rootstock and scion with you,
Will we double the duration of total youth?

16

Poems are fruitless. They can't protect
You from the malice of Time the tyrant,
But you can bear fruit yourself -
It's not too late and it's not too early.

The brush is barren, as are the consonances of the words:
Here - only a semblance, there - only rehashes,
And how many uncultivated gardens
They can't wait to see your sowing!

So grow new flowers,
Let them repeat in friendly shoots
The features of your wonderful beauty -
Both internal and external advantages.

You are your own brush and pencil:
By giving away a trifle, you will create yourself again.

17

Years will pass, and you have to come to terms with it
With the impotence of poetic vanity -
My poems will appear only as a tomb,
Preserving the ashes of outdated beauty.

Let me embody it with all the details
In your poems your true portrait,
“This,” says the future tense, “
In the past, no, and in the present, no.”

The fading lines will tell everyone,
What, tugging at the flesh of your imagination,
The chatterbox old man reached the point in his lies.
But if a son is born to you,

You will live forever, and doubly so:
Inside my sonnets and outside.

18

No, I won’t compare you to a summer day -
You are many times more tender and constant,
And he is dry, then tears rain,
That late hour is fraught with early coolness,

Then the wind will raid the garden,
The eye of the sun will disappear behind a cloud...
The beautiful is not beautiful forever,
The reason for everything in nature is chance.

It's destined for you,
Not knowing about time and deadlines,
Shining with unchanging beauty,
Save yourself from death in these lines

And find shelter in them for centuries:
They live and give you life.

19

You, Time, devour everything: claws to the lion
You're being stupid, you're tearing out the tiger's teeth,
You grow grass on the offspring of the earth
And you burn the Phoenix bird forever,

You torture us with frost and fire...
Let's! I'm not afraid of your tricks
And I beg only one thing:
Knives of soulless clock hands

Do not furrow your beloved brow -
Let him remain young forever;
Your anciently sharp stylus
Let it not touch this delicate skin.

But... I don’t know fear here either:
After all, youth will live in my poems.

20

Nature, having endowed with a completely girlish
With a blush and a trembling soul,
She brought you into the world with a different appearance -
You are filled with masculine strength.

Your gaze is feminine, but it is devoid of coquetry,
Which is given to them from birth -
Two sexes live side by side in you,
You will captivate men and women equally.

Nature wanted to create a girl,
But I deviated from my plan,
Adding something. I don't care
There is no up to something

It will be a delight for others.
Something for them, love for the two of us.

21

I'm not one of those poets who write in verse
The object of love is praised beyond measure,
Looking for his comparison in heaven:
Like, these eyes sparkle like stars,

And this skin is whiter than a month,
And my cheeks, like the sunrise, glow red, -
Or they look for similarities in the depths of the seas:
Oh, pearl of the neck! Ah, mouth-corals!

Why should I multiply images? Why?
The subject of my image
To describe its beauty
No exaggeration required

He's good himself. And finally,
He is not a product, and I am not a seller.

22

There is no reason for me to be afraid of the mirror,
My age is not reflected in it:
I am reflected in you. When will wrinkles
Time will lay on your forehead -

Me, I hope, with greedy fingers
Will finally take death out of life.
We once exchanged hearts
And from then on - hostages of hearts.

It's a disaster for both of us if we don't
Protect them in the whirlwind of days
And pamper - like good nannies,
Households caring for children.

One of them will subside and freeze
Another immediately. And vice versa.

23

Like a clumsy actor,
Forgot the right verse on stage,
Or to the one who, in furious anger,
Loses feelings from their excess, -

My tongue becomes silent before you,
And I become a little mute,
And it seems that love is weakening
Under the weight of your own strength.

But you see: the gaze remains.
They are truer than hundreds of words in a row.
I speak clearer than the one who
A hundred times more eloquent than me.

Since there are eyes, mouths and ears are superfluous:
I speak with my eyes, listen with my eyes.

24

My view is that of an artist. He displayed
Your appearance with a precise and truthful brush
And placed it on the tablet of the heart,
Without breaking the laws of perspective.

In my soul there is an imperishable portrait of you,
And my flesh is like a perishable frame.
The sun looks through the windows of the workshop,
With your glazed eyes.

The look of love can do a lot:
At least draw, at least open the way to the sun;
My eyes are artists. Yours -
My chest has transparent windows.

Eyes can see and create,
But they cannot open the door of the heart.

25

Caressed by the light of the heavenly spheres
Let them boast of a constellation of awards,
But I, one of the many unknown,
I feel a hundred times happier

Than those who, seeing favors from the authorities,
They are in a hurry to bloom in double bloom,
When will it come - but it will come! - bad weather,
They don’t know how to save the pistils.

When a strategist, rightfully renowned,
One day he will lose the battle,
He will be erased from the book of military glory,
They won’t leave a single line,

And I am loved, and I can love -
And this cannot be deprived in any way.

26

You reign in love, I am only a tributary,
And my modest sonnet (much more modest!)
Enters your throne room as an envoy
With my credentials.

My duty is great; the messenger is not worth a penny:
And naked, and barefoot, and dumb in the mouth.
Your kind gaze, I hope, will cover
And his dumbness and nakedness.

It will be cut from precious fabrics
Then his outfit is exquisite,
To make it clear: I myself am worthy
Smiles of the stars, your attention.

Until then, I swear by love! -
I will not appear in your palace.

27

The day is over and I'm in a hurry to fall asleep,
But drowsiness passes me by,
As thoughts continue on their way
We are drawn to the same pilgrimage.

A motionless body means the heart has no time to sleep.
His blows are like this:
It is rushing to you! Even though the night is dark,
The detailed route is not hidden from the heart:

Old women of the night have dark features
Smoothing and transforming,
You sparkle like a diamond in the darkness,
Brightly illuminating the path to the heart.

It is night after night, I am day after day
We come to you without knowing rest.

28

So what should we do? Where is the rest for me?
All day long - one thing to worry about.
The night does not ease the burdens of the day for me,
And the day does not remove the oppression of the night.

Day and night went to war on me,
The Commonwealth was sealed with a handshake:
One - with bright light, the other - with dull darkness
They threaten me equally, and what can I tell them?

What if clouds roll in?
Are you replacing the rays of the sun for me?
What if the night is starless and deep,
Are you illuminating spaces for me?

And the vice is getting tighter and tighter
Daytime sadness and nighttime melancholy.

29

When I cry bitterly over myself -
Rejected, unwanted, lonely,
Disturbing the sky with a vain prayer
About becoming less cruel,

So that it gives, like everyone else around,
Talents, luck, beauty,
With hopes - and I suddenly remember
That, dear friend, I am endowed with you, -

Then at that very moment the soul soars upward,
Like a spring lark at dawn,
Let us hasten to sing the priceless gift of heaven:
I've been awarded more than anyone else in the world

Such wealth as the king
I never dreamed: I love you.

30

The court of memory orders you to answer,
I have nowhere to run from accusations.
I confess to wasting my best years
And the plunder of vain aspirations

And I bow, blinking away tears from my eyelashes,
Exhausted love, departed friends
And time, which, flashing,
Changed from the present to the past,

I am counting the misfortunes of old,
To whom I was destined from above,
And I pay the bill again
As if it had not been paid before.

But I remember: you are with me now -
And I forget the bitterness of all losses.

31

I know: dear hearts to me,
Who seemed to have disappeared,
They left our world not completely -
They have transformed in your chest.

In vain I uttered bitter words,
In vain I shed tears of remembrance:
After all, everyone is alive, and all love is alive -
I just changed my habitat.

You are the crypt in which her spirit is hidden.
The past has been reborn in a new body,
From now on it belongs to you,
Which in the days of yore many owned.

The formation of the shadows of loved ones did not disintegrate:
They are in you, and you are always with me.

32

I hope you will be alive when
I am banned from the grave by Death the Grabber,
And if you re-read it in a year
Simple lines from a dead friend,

Don't twitch your lip condescendingly -
Like, in the matter of composing sonnets
Much more skilled than anyone
Of the currently existing poets.

Take your time! Continue your speech:
“If he were alive, he would grow with us
And he could be one of the first to be in the ranks
Those who are able to speak in poetry.

I love their lines for their skill,
His lines are for his love.”

33

A hundred times I've seen the sunrise rise
A world of gold from edge to edge,
And the greenery of the meadow and the coolness of the waters
Transforming the skies with alchemy.

But clouds will come at a sad hour,
And the sun, no longer caressing with its gaze
Neither the heights of the peaks nor the blue of the streams are from us
In the West he is hiding in disgrace.

My dawn was illuminated by you,
Your mighty splendor,
But soon our horizon will be stained
The time has come for the ugly clouds.

I'm not offended: who among us doesn't know
That there is no sun without eclipses.

34

You are the sun, and you were promised
It's a wonderful day. Lies, don't punish me!
Your face disappeared behind a thundercloud,
And the rain poured down, and there was no protection anywhere.

From the clouds you will come to us again,
But this will not help the situation:
Repentance healing balm
It cannot heal a mental wound.

So I wander, crushed by the cross
A grave insult inflicted on the spot...
But immediately in a different guise
All the adversities of bad weather will appear,

Just call them differently:
That rain was a shower of tears from your love.

35

It's okay, don't worry about it, blaming yourself.
There is a worm in a sweet bud,
Roses have thorns, there is dirt in the transparent stream,
And clouds on the radiant sky,

And I myself sin against the truth,
Going to small tricks in poetry,
And, accusing, I hasten to justify
Your action is disgraceful and awkward.

I relieve you of guilt with rhymes
And I babble: “What is it... But where is it...” -
So, as if declaring war on himself,
From a prosecutor I became a lawyer

And I will be recognized - the court is inexorable! -
My sweet thief, your accomplice.

36

You and I are two in one. But I guess
It's better for us to exist apart,
So that people do not dare to gossip
I attribute my dishonor to you.

It’s mine, and we don’t need anything together
To drag the yoke of common shame;
Love does not diminish from dishonor,
But it also cannot wash away dirty stains.

Let's meet as if we were strangers
Stay away from each other
So that an honest name is not tarnished,
You do me the honor of making your acquaintance.

After all, we are one! Rays of good glory
I too will be rightly enlightened.

37

Like a decrepit old man with the strength of youth
Proud in children - the same way I am every day,
Destroyed by a merciless fate,
I look for and see consolation in you.

Intelligence, nobility - I’ll extend this list -
Become, beauty... What the hell?
Add it to it? Allow me your love
I will add to your wealth!

Now it is uncountable. His shadow is
And it is full of genuine light.
I am a small shareholder in your business,
And there is no one happier than me:

All the best is embodied in you,
And part of it belongs to me.

38

Why do I need a Muse if you breathe
And music fills your soul -
With words of such crystal purity,
Why is it sometimes worth giving them away to paper?

And if anything in my poems
It will be worth reading,
The reason for this is only their theme:
There was a flame of inspiration hidden within you.

It's easy for me in lonely silence
Place the letter in order after the letter:
You appeared to me as the tenth Muse,
One eclipsed the Parnassian nine.

I will answer this way, if I expect praise:
He dictated, I just wrote it down.

39

How can I glorify your priceless image?
You are a part of me, born of love,
And they appear with shameless boasting
All praise and praise are mine.

It's time to separate the one -
After all, this is the only way I, orphan, lonely,
I can embody your pure image
In lines filled with sincerity.

The separation was unbearable
Whenever she gives us leisure,
Forgetting about daily affairs,
Dedicate all our thoughts to each other.

You and I are separated by space,
But the feelings are still divided!

40

You took, my love, my love.
And how much did you buy? Insignificantly little.
You know: everything and everyone that I love,
It already belonged to you.

There is not a drop of anger in my blood,
There is only regret for the error:
You thought that the love of my love -
Doubly love? Addition has nothing to do with it.

You are sorry - and forgive me yourself:
After all, we are both involved in common feelings.
It’s better to bear the blow of love,
Than from insidiously hidden anger.

My dear thief, let it be like this:
You are not my enemy, and I am not your enemy.

41

You are to blame - but how can I blame you?
Your actions are in keeping with your age.
It’s not a miracle to sometimes forget about me,
When there are so many temptations around.

You are kind - they want to conquer you,
If you are good-looking, they will put you under siege.
The woman's son can't resist
In front of a woman, and that’s what she needs.

But before you shamelessly plunder
My goodness, you could call on reason.
But you didn’t - and, like a greedy thief,
He managed to steal two loyalties at once:

Her - because he was too nice,
Its own - because it took it and changed it.

42

The fact that you are with her is an infinite pity,
The fact that she is with you is twice as sad.
Beloved traitors! Sadness
Let me reassure you with this assumption:

You loved her because I
I love her; she cheats on me
Just to introduce you