To Alexiane
From loving papi russe
Your eyes are like a a spaceship’s light
In flight beyond the stars of our Universe eternal;
Inside itself it carries Slavic fun
And Jewish Torah’s sorrow.
And wasn’t it God’s wonderful design
To let my son create your striking beauty,
As master painter ending his chef d’oeuvre
Departs to rest his brushes down putting,
So birds fly far away to Eden streams
Not knowing that to rest is just a dream.
And saintly face survives through time and troubles,
Unworldly ligh imprinted in the face,
It keeps the light and likeness of the man
Who has created you so kindly and nice looking
That there’s no force to rudely quench the light.
авторский перевод посвящения внучке
© Copyright: Леонид Седов, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №211081400778
Свидетельство о публикации №211081400778
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