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Весь в смерти чернеющих пятнах
На темени, челюсти, скулах -
Кулак свой он в череп впечатал
И смехом взорвался безумным,
Погибели видя узоры
Мутнеющим сумрачным взором...
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And a dozen death-blots blotched him
On jowl and shank and huckle,
And he knocked on his skull with his knuckle
And laughed - if you'd call it laughter -
At the billion facets of dying
In his outstart eye-balls shining.
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