You will dress me in a silvery robe.
And the moment I’m gone, Crescent swings,
The celestial Pierrot will cry on,
Red-faced clown will have climbed on a stone.
Lifeless Crescent is hopelessly mute,
Keeps the secrets that cannot be known.
Only some will enquire my sweet Muse --
Why I loved her in years bygone.
In the fury of daydream I’ll haul
My dead face to the fathomless skies,
And the clown will frighten the owl
With the jingles and shrunken disguise.
I assume, his appearance is old,
Shameless, nude, in its earthly abode,
But an ominous frenzy aspires --
To the skies, to the skies, to the skies.
vip/2010
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Ты оденешь меня в серебро