Nikolay Gumilev
Consolation

From the grave
you hear wonderful bells,
you smell
the whitest lilies.

From the grave
you sec God’s light
and the glowing flight
of seraphim’s wings.

You’re dying, yes,
your lovely hands are cold,
you don’t believe, you don’t know
how Heaven flowers,

But you’ll go there
because I’ve prayed, you’ll go
to Heaven, I know
you’ll go, I swear it.

Translated by Burton Raffel and Alla Burago

(Nikolay Gumilev`s site)