Alexander Blok
At night I was conceived and born...

At night I was conceived and born.
        Oh my! I saw the light:
So mournful was my mother"s moan,
        So black the hollow night.

And when it cleared up anew
        The day got filled with schemes,
With lots of tedious things to do.
        Dull, boring heaps of things.

«Whatever happens, let it be» —
        The organ played. Somehow
Since childhood it's been known to me, —
        I am a poet now.

Affection blossomed in my curls,
        And sorrow still remains.
So many times, so many girls
        Have kept me locked in chains.

And life went on the way it should:
        Love, poems grief and fun.
The quiet stream took, as it would,
        All in its bed at one.

The night was blind, and so was I.
        That's what I wanted, too...
One day they dug my grave — oh my! —
        And said: God be with you!

That night the ice began to break
        And flood the river-bed.
I thought the river was awake,
        And so I went ahead.

That night the stream was dark as pitch,
        And entering the night
A woman turned up on the bridge
        Just like a beam of light

She was a living flame on ice,
        A flare of wine and snow.
And if you looked into her eyes
        What she was like you'd know.

She took me gently by the hand
        And looked me in the face.
She gave a cover to me and
        A ring with silver lace.

«Stop living, and don't say a word,
        I'm like a ringing storm.
I'm living in a different world,
        And yet I am bright and warm».

She calls and tempts me. And I see
        Snow has swept up the earth.
What's there that rings and sings for me?
        Another life? Or death?

Translated by Alec Vagapov