The swifts in the evening are out of their depth
In keeping the crystalline coolness.
It’s burst through their open vociferous chests
And spurted and gushed in its fullness.
The swifts in the evening, at swiftness rejoiced,
Cannot restrain from elation
And blithe jubilation. Hear their voice!
They see land in flight from their passion.
Like water that boils over brims of a pan
And down and away it goes –
So now there is left no space for the land
From rainbows – to hollows.
Оригинал «Стрижи» Б.Пастернака