Left by his friend to breakfast alone on the white
Left by his friend to
breakfast alone on the white
Italian shore, his Terrible Demon arose
Over his shoulder; he wept to himself in the night,
A dirty landscape-painter who hated his nose.
The legions of cruel
inquisitive They
Were so many and big like dogs: he was upset
By Germans and boats; affection was miles away:
But guided by tears he successfully reached his Regret.
How prodigious the
welcome was. Flowers took his hat
And bore him off to introduce him to the tongs;
The demon’s false nose made the table laugh; a cat
Soon had him waltzing madly, let him squeeze her hand;
Words pushed him to the piano to sing comic songs;
And children swarmed
to him like settlers. He became a land.
Хлеб свой вкушать без милого друга невмочь
В Италии светлой; Грозный Демон занёс
Главу над его плечом; он плакал всю ночь, Ландшафтописец, свой ненавидевший нос.
Кишащие своры злобных Они
Сродни инквизиции; он был не рад
Германцам и лодкам; любовь далека искони:
Но слёзы вели неуклонно стезёю Утрат.
Встретил славный приём. Имел у цветов успех,
Привечен ими, представлен каминным щипцам;
Фальшивым демонским носом он вызвал смех;
Жал ручку кошке, кружа её в пляске шальной;
Под рояль пел куплеты подобно певцам;