Николай Гумилёв : электронное собрание сочинений.
http://gumilev.ru/

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Бартон Раффел , Алла Бураго
The Cross

Card after card lied to me, lied and lied,
and even wine no longer helped.
Cold March stars hung pale,
anxious, outside the window.

Coldly mad, in crazy passion,
I felt the game was dream.
“I bet everything in the bank, all of it!” I shouted.
And I lost.

I left. Dawn shadows
moved gently, lovingly over the delicate snow.
I can't remember how, bur I fell
on my knees, my gold cross pressed to my lips:

“Oh to be free, to be pure, like the sky, like the stars,
to accept you staff, oh Sister Poverty,
to wander, to beg my bread,
commanding men's souls with this sacred cross!”

Another moment — and then everyone in that noisy,
launching hall shrank back, frightened,
as I stalked insanely through the room
and bet my cross on next card.

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Источник: Selected works of Nikolai S. Gumilev (http://gumilev.ru/biblio/70/)

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