In summer, when day has fled,
the plain covered with flowers pours out
far away an intoxicating sent; eyes shut, ears half open to noises,
we only half sleep in a transparent slumber.
The stars are purer, the shade seems pleasanter;
a hazy half-day colours the eternal dome;
and the sweet pale dawn awaiting her hour
seems to wander all night at the bottom of the sky.
Stars in the firmament, glittering splendidly,
What is the secret you guard and withhold from us?
Stars deeply treasuring thoughts of profundity,
What is the charm that you exercise over us?
Stars bright and plentiful, crowding the Universe,
What makes you beautiful, what makes you powerful?
How do you prompt in us, stars bright and numerous,
А curiosity so insurmountable?
Why do you seem to be, when you’re so luminous,
Heavenward luring us, fondly embracing us?
Kindly you gaze on us, cheering and soothing us,
Stars up in heaven there, so faraway from us!
He was walking a frozen road
in his pocket iron keys were jingling
and with his pointed shoe absentmindedly
he kicked the cylinder
of an old can
which for a few seconds rolled its cold emptiness
wobbled for a while and stopped
under a sky studded with stars.