17
Thus, O the Lord! And this my prayer
Accept for temple's confirmation.
I sing not pleasures of my love —
I sing the wound of my nation.
Not nasty person's rusty trunk —
Granite, with people's knees rubbed coarse.
Hero and tsar given to all,
To all — a singer — righteous — corpse.
Not bashful at the coffin boards,
Breaking upon Dnieper the ices,
Russia — on Easter it does swim
In pouring streams of thousand-voices.
Thus, heart, there will be cry and praise!
Let your cry — which thousand?
The mortal love is jealous so.
The other's at the chorus glad.
17
Так, Господи! И мой обол
Прими на утвержденье храма.
Не свой любовный произвол
Пою — своей отчизны рану.
Не скаредника ржавый ларь —
Гранит, коленами протёртый.
Всем отданы герой и царь,
Всем — праведник — певец — и мёртвый.
Днепром разламывая лёд,
Гробо́вым не смущаясь тёсом,
Русь — Пасхою к тебе плывёт,
Разливом тысячеголосым.
Так, сердце, плачь и славословь!
Пусть вопль твой — тысяча который? —
Ревнует смертная любовь.
Другая — радуется хору.
«The little cloud was up in the sky / Like a spread out fleece of a grey squirrel. / He said: "I am not sorry that your body, / Will melt in March, my fragile Snow Maiden." My hands turned cold inside a fluffy muff. / Fear and confusion came to the heart. / O how can I retrieve those fleet...»
«May the organ’s sounds burst out once more / Like the first spring thunderstorm: / Behind the shoulder of your young bride / My half-closed eyes will meet your eyes. Farewell, my beauteous friend, be happy, / I relieve you from your sweet vow, / But do not reveal to your passionate swee...»
«A simple way of life I’ve learned to live / To look up at the sky and pray to God / Take long, slow walks before the evening dies / To tire my unnecessary worry. When burdocks rustle in the ravine / And a yellow-red rowan drops its clusters, / Then I compose my cheerful verses / About...»
«To awake when dawn is breaking, / Just because joy stops me sleeping, / And to look out through the port-hole / Where the green waves beat outside, / Or on deck with the rain falling / To sit wrapped with furs around me, / Listen to the engine throbbing, / And to have thoughts at all, ...»