Nikolay Gumilev

 

The Giraffe

You are sadder, today: I can see.
And your arms, wrapped around your knees, are thinner.
But listen: far far away, near Lake Chad,
a delicate giraffe grazes up and down.

He is blessed with sinuous beauty and with happiness,
and his hide is stamped with a magic design
that only the moon dares to challenge,
splitting, rocking white on the waters of wide lakes.

From far off he seems like colored sails on a ship,
he runs like a smooth-flying gay-flying bird.
When he hides in a marble cave, at sunset,
earth sees wonders, I know it does.

I know cheerful stories of mysterious lands,
about lovely black girls, about passionate young chiefs,
but you have breathed too much heavy fog,
you refuse to believe in anything but rain.

And how shall I tell you about tropical gardens,
about slender palms, about the perfume of unimaginable grasses
You're crying ? Listen ... far far away, near Lake Chad,
a delicate giraffe grazes up and down.