Alexander Blok
Night, street, streetlight, chemist’s

But pointlessly the light shines dimly —
The chemist’s, streetlight, street, and night.
For quarter-century hold on grimly —
It will not change. You can’t take flight.

You’ll die — again find all beginning,
And as before it all will go.
The night, canal’s ice-dazzle spinning,
The chemist’s, street and streetlight’s glow.

Translated by Rupert Moreton