Nothing but anniversaries, anniversaries...
Our liter reeks like a kitchen!
To judge by it, all Russia
Is teeming with great men:
After their deaths, it’s certain.
Following magnificent empty sanctimonies,
A hundred Pantheons
And a hundred Westminster Abbeys won’t suffice.
Всё юбилеи, юбилеи…
Жизнь наша кухнею разит!
Судя по ним, людьми большими
Россия вся кишмя-кишит;
По смерти их, и это ясно,
Вослед великих пустосвятств,
Не хватит нам ста Пантеонов
И ста Вестминстерских аббатств…
«My earthly heart gets cold and all, / But I sustain the shivers boldly. / I keep my love of people fondly, / Unanswered reverence, in my soul. / / But love is followed by discord / Which ripens into strong intention / To read oblivion or award / In men's and ladies reflection. / ...»
«As I was growing old and fading, / A poet, used to streaks of grey, / I wanted to postpone the ending / The aged men should face some day. / / A sickly man, a puny creature, / I'm looking for a lucky star, / And in my senile dreams I picture / A lovely image, now so far. / / Pe...»
«With inspiration and such sweetness / The princess sang about May. / I said: "Just wait, my dear princess, / You"ll have to cry for me some day". / / She cuddled to me drawing near / And said: "Oh no, forgive me, pray. / Go fighting sword in hand, my dear. / I will safeguard you on...»
«There is fatal news of perdition / In your innermost songs through and through. / There's a curse of holy volition / And affront of happiness, too. / / Their power, so captivating, / Makes me say what everyone says: / Fair angels you've been abating / Fascinate them with your g...»