In the sweet-scented prairies В прериях

В прериях душистых утопали
Ноги разноцветных лошадей.
Их летели огненные стаи,
Разрывая воздух средь полей.
За иллюзией – движеньем солнца
Мчались по долинам и лугам
И ловили ветер в ноздри-кольца.
Их трава хлестала по ногам.
Словно птицы хлопали крылами,
Отрывая ноги от земли.
И в реальность рифмою слетали
В стихо – сотворения мои.
Я была свидетелем творенья:
Птицы – кони вились надо мной,
И полет блестящего паренья
Лег на лист серебряной строкой.
Их стремленье под небесным сводом –
К водопаду. Падала вода
В пену необузданной природы.
И в потоке длинная трава
Повторяла речки повороты.
Вдруг раздался крик над шумом ветра,
И над звуком рвущейся воды.
Так из нитей солнечного света
В этот дивный мир родился ты:
Мальчик из зори, голубоглазый.
Перья – пух летел с волос твоих.
И блестели росы словно стразы –
На траве дыхание любви.
И пегас кружил золотокрылый
Над твоею светлой головой.
И казалось все вокруг застыло,
Воздух разрезало синевой.
Ты мужчина солнечного света,
Яркая желанная звезда,
Дух порывистый степного ветра,
Упоительный:  душе вода.
Одаренный: крылья за спиною,
Милый мой, крылатый Пилигрим.
И пегас летает над тобою
Поэтичной светлою строкою
Над вторым рождением твоим.

The legs of horses of different colors
Were sinking in the sweet-scented prairies.
They were flying like fiery flocks,
Breaking the air among the fields.
They were hurrying for the illusion,
For the moving of the Sun
Along the valleys and meadows.
They caught the wind by their round nostrils.
The grass was beating their legs.
Their wings were clapping like birds
When the horses were moving up from the ground.
They were flying into the reality
Like rhymes into my poems.
I was a witness of creating.
The horses-birds were hovering over me
And their brilliant flight was lying
On the sheet of paper like a silver line.
They were striving for a waterfall under the sky.
The water was falling into the foam of wild nature.
And in the stream the grass was repeating the turnings of the river.
Suddenly a cry was heard through the noise of wind
And through the sound of the falling water.
It was your birth: you were made of threads
Of Sun-light in that marvelous world.
A boy with blue eyes came from the dawn.
Feathers and down were falling from your hair.
And dews were shining like diamonds on the grass.
It was breath of love.
And Pegasus with golden wings was flying round your fair head.
It seemed that everything was motionless.
The air was cut by the blue.
You are the man of a Sun-light.
You are a bright desired star.
You are a spirit of the impulsive steppe wind.
You are entrancing like a water for a soul.
You are talented with wings behind your back.
My dear winged Pilgrim!
Pegasus is flying over your like a poetic
Light line over your second birth.