Legend of the Sphinx [ Легенда о Сфинксе (legenda o sfinkse) ]
Legend of the Sphinx
The last few nights I spent unsleeping
One unhappy business, too:
might be cat, might be bird,
might be woman who was here
Now she gazed into the fire
Now she crumpled on the floor
Now she called out crying, singing
Dashing madly at the door
And I thought: if she's a woman
What's the point of those two wings?
But if she's a bird, then surely
She could fly away at will.
But she walked beside my window
And she lay beside the fire:
might be bird, might be cat,
might be woman with me here
If she's a bird, then it's indecent
To do laundry, sweep the floor,
One should carry oneself proudly
Guard one's bird-ly dignity
But if you're no bird at all
And have settled in my home
Why then press against the window
Crying, singing, all for what?
But she wasn't only singing:
I remember, through the night,
She gazed long into the fire
Till her eyes were burning bright
But if you've a feline nature,
What need do you have of wings?
You should then be scratching, purring –
That she simply could not do.
So it came that late one evening
I opened wide the window pane.
If she truly wants this freedom,
She will reach it anyway!
And – she stepped up to the window,
And – her two wings spread out wide...
Might be bird, might be cat,
Might be woman who was here.
Мне другую ночь не спится.
То ли кошка, то ли птица,
То ли женщина была?
То она в огонь глядела,
То, забившись в уголок,
После плакала и пела