My youth was hard to endure.
With so much sorrow to bear.
How can a soul this poor
Be returned to You rich and fair?
A song of praise, long and elegant,
The flattering fate sings fervent.
Lord, Almighty! I’m negligent,
Always Your miserly servant.
Not a rose, not a blade of grass
Will I be Your garden, Father.
I tremble at every speck of dust,
At each word that a fool may utter.
Дал Ты мне молодость трудную.
Столько печали в пути.
Как же мне душу скудную
Богатой Тебе принести?
Долгую песню, льстивая,
О славе поет судьба,
Господи! я нерадивая,
Твоя скупая раба.
Ни розою, ни былинкою
Не буду в садах Отца.
Я дрожу над каждой соринкою,
Над каждым словом глупца.
«Away from home, I reverently observe / The age-old custom of my native land: / At Eastertide, the bright feast of rebirth, / I set a little bird free, by my hand. And thus I have access to consolation; / For why 'gainst God should I e'er grumble so, / If on one little being of His creatio...»
«In far Siberia's deepest soil, / Preserve your proud, unflagging patience; / They won't be lost — your bitter toil, / And striving, lofty meditations. The faithful sister to all woe, / Hope, in your subterranean houses, / Courage and gaiety soon arouses; / The hoped-for time will come...»
«Are you still alive, my starushka? / I am too, and I wanted to write. / I hope evening still bathes the cottage / in the same indescribable light. They tell me that you try to hide it, / but I'm causing you pain and distress. / You walk out on the road after supper / in your tattered an...»
«One white and lonely sail out there, / amidst fog and the ocean’s blue. / What does it seek in distant lands? / What’s amiss in the land it knew? Waves leap up into whistling wind; / the tall mast bends; the rigging creaks. / This isn’t a flight from trouble — / contentment is n...»