Золотой венец удачи — титул шаха, не иначе! Призрак зазывалой скачет: эй, слепец, сюда!
Получи с медяшки сдачу, получи динар впридачу, Получи... и тихо плачет кто-то за спиной.
Ночь смеется за порогом: будь ты шахом, будь ты Богом — Неудачнику итогом будет хвост свиной,
Завитушка мерзкой плоти! Вы сгниете, все сгниете, Вы блудите, лжете, пьете... Жизнь. Насмешка. Ночь. The cloak of the night, patched by the moon, flows casually over the robe, From the garden darkness takes its toll with mournful silence -
In impatience, in confusion, shadows wander between the trees, And the plant is crowned with a night butterfly...
What are we dreaming about? What do we think? Dreams in a vague string Floating through the pages of the book of existence,
To last in the future, throwing back their faces To the dazzling firebirds... How funny! —
Considering dreams just dreams, in a world not created by us, It is proud to call those who are not blind liars,
Who drinks in alien experience, catches the distant tramp, Who washes away the soot from his eyes, seeing a different light!..
The dog is yawning under the poplar tree, the rat is roaming around in the basement, An old dove on a duval is raving about the heights -
Rat, poplar, dog and bird, do you want to stop? Do you want to transform, become me for a while?!
Give up your free spirit, your sensitive ear, your lean belly? It's warm and dry on the sofa, boring on the sofa,
In a muslin of moon dust... We were killed and forgotten, We were once a whole country,
Pigeons, poplars, ponds, fields, In the blue sky with cranes, an oriole in hand,
With an unshod hoof... Fenced off, forgotten, It's criss-crossed with boards, hidden behind the wall.
Life passes by in the night, curls in a gray stream of smoke, The horizon is tirelessly painted with red henna...
Past, as a blind traveler through the desert, hot snow, And in the distance the mirage looms like a wondrous veil:
The golden crown of luck is the title of the Shah, no less! The ghost of a barker gallops: hey, blind man, here!
Get change from a copper coin, get a dinar in addition, Get it... and someone is quietly crying behind you.
The night laughs beyond the threshold: be you a Shah, be you God - The loser will end up with a pig's tail,
A curl of vile flesh! You will rot, you will all rot, You fornicate, lie, drink... Life. Mockery. Night.