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three poems by Osip Mandelstam

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Tatars, Uzbeks and nentses,
entire Ukrainian people, and even
Volga Germans await
translators.

And maybe now, some Japanese

translated into Turkish
me and reaches my soul.

November 1933
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We sat in the kitchen,
white kerosene smells sweet

A sharp knife and a bread ...
If you want, warm up thoroughly the stove,

And if not, look for the strings
tying basket before dawn

To go to the station,
Where we find we no .

January 1931
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Help me, God, to survive tonight,
fear for life, your slave ...
Living in Petersburg - it's like sleeping in a coffin.

January 1931
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Sergey Esenin "the stupid joy loved" ...

And here, the stupid happiness
with white windows into the garden!
On the pond, like a beautiful swan
all the quiet sunset.

Hello, tranquility in the shadow
golden birch in the water!
On the roof a flock of jackdaws
celebrates mass for a star.

Somewhere, behind the garden, where flowers
the elder, sweet

white girl sings a soft melody.

The cold night like a blue robe,
extends from the field ...
The fresh flush of the cheeks, the stupid joy
beloved!

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So Esenin recited and ...:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xabVgAhOHGA&feature=related

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Fyodor Tyutchev

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whole day was faded, and the shadows
completely covered -
the warm summer rain poured - a jet
sounding cheerily in the leaves.
And slowly turned
if
and began to hear noises,
long - enjoyable,
immersed in thought ...

And as if conversing with herself, consciously gave

(I was at his side, dead, but alive):
"Oh, how I loved this!"
............ ...............
...........................
loved, and so, like you, love - nobody could
-
my God ... How to stand ...
And the heart did not break into pieces ...

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