Giraffe

A translation of Gumilev's poem attempting to preserve the melody

Today your eyes are especially sad,
And your arms — especially thin, hugging your knees.
Are you crying? But listen, listen — far away,
On Lake Chad, gracefully walks a giraffe.

He carries a tenderness and a quiet grace,
And a magical pattern decorates his coat —
A pattern the moon alone could claim
As it shimmers on the waters of African lakes.

From afar, he looks like the bright sails of a ship,
And his stride is as smooth as a joyous bird’s flight.
I know the Earth witnesses the miraculous
When, at sunset, into his marble grotto he hides.

I know bright tales of far‑off, wondrous lands,
Of a dark‑skinned maiden and passion of a young chief —
But you have been breathing this heavy fog for too long
And won’t believe in anything other than rain.

So how can I tell you of the tropical gardens —
Of graceful palms and the scent of mysterious grasses?
Listen, listen — far away,
On Lake Chad, gracefully walks a giraffe…