Читать книгу In Praise of Poetry - Ольга Седакова - Страница 26

5. LULLABY

On a hill, in a rare forest of spruce,

on the highest, delicate treetop,

a cradle is fastened.

The wind rocks it.

There with the cradle is a little cage,

and with the cage, a hollow spruce tree.

In the cage, a clever bird sings

and burns, as brightly as a candle.

Sleep, it says, sleep my little dove,

when you awake, your dreams will come true:

you can be poor, you can be rich,

you can be a wave on the ocean sea,

you can be an angel of the Lord.