Bulat Okudzhava
I built a castle of hope...

I built a castle of hope. I built and built it.
Kneaded some clay. Then carried cold boulders away.
And for help didn’t pray.
                That’s how is will be:
It’s hope that will matter — strength might come on the way.

And time went by. Seasons changed every so often.
Summer fried all those boulders. Then frost would sting.
I would see white magpies flying nearby — and scoffing.
Back then of white magpies I didn't care a thing.

A bird I modeled. A forest bird. Red-breasted.
Bird without a name, one for which I have so much care.
«Life is too short.» «Fool, you haven’t got time...»
                I’ll chance it.
Woman is departing, while laughing somewhat.
                I dare.

Being crowned by all festivities, all battles of honor,
I keep building.
My sheath's toughened throughout the years...
Each small pipe in the forest, each clarion, each accordion,
Groan,
    groan,
        groan
            with all my tears.

Translated by Evgenia Sarkisyants