Случилось мне, любуясь камнем,
Вздремнуть слегка.
Ни облачка тем летним полднем,
Ни ветерка.

Беспечные, разжались пальцы -
Исчез, как сон...
Лишь аметистовую память
Оставил он.


***

Emily Dickinson
245

I held a jewel in my fingers
And went to sleep.
The day was warm, and winds were prosy;
I said, "Twill keep".

I woke – and chid my honest fingers,–
The Gem was gone;
And now, an Amethyst remembrance
Is all I own.