Unmoved by bullets, confrontations,
Unmoved by songs of celebration!
And so I gape, with admiration:
“What people! What a nation!”
A nation — such, that with elation —
A mouthpiece of vastness stationed —
A poet, gapes with adoration,
Dumbstruck: O, what a nation!
It won’t submit to occupation,
Or to the luxury its shown, —
You try to beat it with starvation?
Try starving — granite stone!
(It’s there — it cuts a stone with care,
Its grammar won’t grow stagnant…
Engrained inside, it waits! — it flares! —
A garnet, makes - a magnet.)
…Took radium out of its chest,
And gave you — a donation!
Alive, — with Europe still abreast —
To bury such a nation?
If you yourself are – such, my Lord!
You’ll do it as I’m willing -
Don’t sanctify it with your horde, -
Breathe life into the living!
Его и пуля не берёт,
И песня не берёт!
Так и стою, раскрывши рот:
— Народ! Какой народ!
Народ — такой, что и поэт —
Глашатай всех широт, —
Что и поэт, раскрывши рот,
Стоит — такой народ!
Когда ни сила не берёт,
Ни дара благодать, —
Измором взять такой народ?
Гранит — измором взять!
(Сидит — и камешек гранит,
И грамотку хранит…
В твоей груди зарыт — горит! —
Гранат, творит — магнит.)
…Что радий из своей груди
Достал и подал: вот!
Живым — Европы посреди —
Зарыть такой народ?
Бог! Если ты и сам — такой,
Народ моей любви
Не со святыми упокой —
С живыми оживи!
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«Through the murk the moon is veering, / Ghost-accompanist of night, / On the melancholy clearings / Pouring melancholy light. Runs the troika with its dreary / Toneless jangling sleigh-bell on / Over dismal snow' I'm weary, / Hungry, frozen to the bone. Coachman in a homely fashion's ...»
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