To Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata
White horses,
black horses,
over a sleeping earth –
where are they going, the horses?
Where are the clouds rushing,
restless dreams of ours –
where are the clouds rushing?
Sleeping are the plants, the animals –
never does the river
sleep.
It races eternally to the oceans,
drives us nearer to death!
White horses,
black horses,
over a sleeping earth –
where are they going, the horses?
(1932)
Translated by Barnett Zumoff
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