Осенняя любовь - перевод А. Блока

1.
When in the leaves so moist and red
A cluster of a mountain ash does redden, -
When butcher the last nail does hammer
Into my palm with his slim hand, -
When above lead ripples of rivers
In damp and grey height before eyes
Of a stringent native land I swing there
On cross without doubts either, -
Then - spaciously and so far
I look through the pre-death blood tear,
And I see: on the river wide
On boat Christ is sailing to me.
In his eyes - I see the same hopes,
And just the same are