Translation of Russian classical poetry
Perhaps you need me not this minute, night:
From sea foams of the world -
A shell without a pearl within it -
Upon your shores I have been hurled.
With mists the ocean you embellish
And wordlessly you sing as well;
But you will love, and you will cherish
A pretense of a useless shell.
In ocean waves you lie next to her,
In misty haze you dress her well
And with tight roping you tie to her
An oversized and brazen bell
And then the seashell - fragile, empty,
A lonely heart that beats in vain -
You fill with sea foams' whispers plenty,
With fog, with wind and with light rain.
Translations of Akhmatova, Blok, Mandelshtam, Severyanin, Tsvetaeva and Vysotsky at