🚧Grey clouds swept o’er the forest speedily
Пімен ПанчанкаВедах беларускіх
Translated by
Grey clouds swept o’er the forest speedily,
The birds grew silent in alarm.
But you were laughing unbelievingly At sings of the approaching storm.
Deep, deep into the dark interior By forest paths my steps you led, With eyes averted, large, mysterious, You laughed and called still ahead.
From every tree was thunder muttering, From every moaning, groaning pine.
You lost your head, and whispered suddenly: «What shall we do, good friend of mine?»
But fir-trees solemnly and cunningly, Beneath their curtain called us there.
I saw your eyes, their moist profundity, For the first time, so near, so near.
A screen of rain tell white and glistening, Nought left but thunder and the dark.
And you, always so shy, now whispering, Pressed close to me in sudden shock.
The tall trees creaked and squeaked repeatedly, The ground was shaken where she stood, My heart-beat hammered sweet, elatedly, And lightning blinded all the wood.
- may forget my friends, my poetry,
But like a dream, like life retain earthly sweet of lips inflammatory,
The scent of grass, the swish of rain.
Translated by Walter May
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