Благовещенье - Annunciation, пер. А. Блока

From my childhood - the dreams and visions,
And the Umbria's caressing mist.
On the fences there flash the roses,
And there are the bells tolling so thin..

Nice girls there seem to be too  boisterous,
Their gazes seem to be too straight.
Only she's alone in the eternal circle
Weaving, weaving slowly her silky pattern.

Timidly she's caring her hopes,
The unrealizable light dreams.
Suddenly - the scarlet-purple gown
Shivered on the gold of wall so near.

Bended her face over the patterns silky,
But - all through the eyelashes gold -
There is the whirl with the multy-coloured wings
Or an angel, prostrated himself down...

And the swarthy angel with a saucy bough
Says: "Hello! You are extremely beautiful!"
Trembls she under that passion show,
And from shoulders two plaits falled down, luring...

Sings he, whispers  - near, near,
And above her - rustle of his wings...
And she's leaning down her eyes, gleaming
With a darkness, with a passion mist...

Shivering, with some kind of a doubt:
"Is it me? Me, rather?" Hands on breast...
But the fired distancies are black - and out
You couldn't go, couldn't stand up, breathe...

Then with a pain, unknown to her previously,
Face is flashed, a circle of the light...
Above is seen - the self-will symbol -
The gryphon of Perugia tears a cow.


Only an artist, backwards hidden, -
Sees the crucifix, grief in passion
And reiterates: "Profani , procul ite,
Hic amoris locul sacer est".
(* from latin: Go away, the people undevoted, here is the sacred place of love)