Low Down Alley Blues (2014)

Сюжет кино: Yes! It"s settled! Now and for ever I have left my dear old plain. And the winged leaves of poplars will never Ring and rustle above me again. Our house will sag in my absence, And my dog died a long time ago. Me, I"m fated to die with compassions In the crooked streets of Moscow, I know. I admire this city of elm-trees With decrepit buildings and homes. Golden somnolent Asian entities Are reposing on temple domes. When the moonlight at night, dissipated, like hell in the dark sky of blue! I walk down the alley, dejected, To the pub for a drink, maybe, two. It"s a sinister den, harsh and roaring, But in spite of it, all through the night I read poems for girls that go whoring And carouse with thieves with delight. Now I speak but my words are quite pointless, And the beat of my heart is fast: "Just like you, I am totally worthless, And I cannot re-enter the past". Our house will sag in my absence. And my dog died a long time ago. Me, I"m fated to die with compassions In the crooked streets of Moscow, I know. 1922 The Night The tired day droops, slowly waning, The noisy waves are now tranquil. The sun has set, the moon is sailing Above the world, absorbed and still. The valley listens to the babbles Of peaceful river in the dale. The forest, dark and bending, slumbers To warbling of the nightingale. The river, listening in and fondling, Talks with the banks in quiet hush. And up above resounds, a-rolling, The merry rustle of the rush. 1910 -1912 *** Azure space is aflame up above, I"ve forgotten my home For the first time I"m singing of love, For the first time I give up contention. I was all like a desolate grove Loving women and heavily drinking. I don"t drink any more and don"t love Like I did, living fast and unthinking. All I want is to look at the vast Of your gold-brown eyes, and, - oh, bother! - How I wish that, disliking your past, You would not like to go to another! Gentle step, graceful waist that you have! Oh if only you wer" able to tumble How a bully can really love, And how he can be timid and humble! All those pubs I would never attend, And my poems would all be forgotten, If you let me take hold of your hand And your hair, the colour of autumn. I would follow you ever, my dove, Be it distant or close For the first time I"m singing of love, For the first time I give up contention. 1923