An Evening of Russian Poetry

[...]
The conjurer collects his poor belongings –
the colored handkerchief, the magic rope,
the double-bottomed rhymes, the cage, the song.
You tell him of the passes you detect.
The mystery remains intact. The check
comes forward in the smiling envelope.

'How would you say "delightful talk" in Russian?
'How would you say "good night?" '

Oh, that would be:
Bessonitza, tvoy vzor oonyl I strashen;
lubov' moya, outsoopnika prostee.
(Insomnia, your stare is dull and ashen,
my love, forgive me this apostasy.)


Nabokov




който не може да пише, чете.
обичам, когато говоря за поезия с професорите си по математика.

още повече обичам факта, че Набоков е основал департамента по руски в колежа ми.