I shall soon fall prey to rot.
Though it's hard to die, it's good to die;
I shall ask for no one's pity,
And there's no one who would pity me.
With my lyre I won no glory
For my noble family name;
And I die as distant from my people
As the day that I began to live.
Ties of friendship, unions of the heart —
All are broken: from my youth,
Fate has sent me foes implacable,
While my friends all perished in the struggle.
Their prophetic songs were left unfinished,
They fell victim to misfortune, were betrayed
In the bloom of life; and now their portraits watch me
From the walls, reproachfully.
Скоро стану добычею тленья.
Тяжело умирать, хорошо умереть;
Ничьего не прошу сожаленья,
Да и некому будет жалеть.
Я дворянскому нашему роду
Блеска лирой своей не стяжал;
Я настолько же чуждым народу
Умираю, как жить начинал.
Узы дружбы, союзов сердечных —
Всё порвалось: мне с детства судьба
Посылала врагов долговечных,
А друзей уносила борьба.
Песни вещие их не допеты,
Пали жертвою злобы, измен
В цвете лет; на меня их портреты
Укоризненно смотрят со стен.
«Then a friendship, now a duty. / Brother wolf, God be with you! / Our friendship is now dying: / I'm not gift but debt for you. Disturb a verst with a verst, / Send a verst into a verst! / I have petted on a fur — / And I have been missing angst! I'm not making you a villain — / ...»
«Your banners — not mine! / Our heads apart. / Not to betray in the Snake's vice / My Pigeon — Spirit. Not to start in a red round dance / Around a May tree. / Higher than all earthly gates / Are heaven's gates to me. Your victories — and not mine! / Others in hallucination! /...»
«O love! O love! In the convulsions, in the coffin, / I'll be on guard — entice — worry — and tear. / Not in the snow mound of the coffin, nor a snow mound / Of cloud, I will part with you, O my dear. And not for this are given to me gorgeous / Two wings that weight upon my heart wou...»
«Either at dawn or at dusk, I will die, but on which / One of the two - can't be told from the orders, I know. / Ah, could it be that my torch could go out twice again! / At the same time at dusk and at dawn it would go! Heaven's daughter! With a full apron of roses! Not a sprout / Violatin...»