Yes, I'll die! Will it matter?
I am ready to use my gun!
I will then only need a coffin,
With some luck a half decent one.
Does it really have to be decent?
Better make it snappy, be gone!
Any sign of me will be trampled
By the boots of some other bum.
I know nothing will change for the better,
As our universe could not care less
And the sun will keep shining brightly,
High above this world's filthy mess.
Да, умру я!
И что ж такого?
Хоть сейчас из нагана в лоб!
Может быть,
гробовщик толковый
смастерит мне хороший гроб..
А на что мне хороший гроб-то?
Зарывайте меня хоть как!
Жалкий след мой
будет затоптан
башмаками других бродяг.
И останется всё,
как было —
на Земле,
не для всех родной...
Будет так же
светить Светило
на заплёванный шар земной!..
«I’ve cut open my veins: irrevocably, / Irreplaceably gushes life. / Bring forth dishes and bowls! / Any bowl will prove too small / Any dish — too shallow. / Filling up and overly / Feeding reeds, through the earth rushing. / Inconceivably, irrevocably, / Irreplaceably, verse is ...»
«I died. The sycamores gave shade; / shutters were shut upon the dust / of the hot streets steamily teased / by the torrid Aeolus. / / I slowly walked, and the fauns walked; / It seemed as though I recognised / the great god Pan in every faun. / Good. I must be in Paradise. / / ...»
«I died. The sycamores and shutters / along the dusty street were teased / by torrid Aeolus. I walked, / and fauns walked, and in every faun / god Pan I seemed to recognize: / Good. I must be in Paradise. Shielding her face and to the sparkling sun /...»
«And you, my dear friends, ones of the last selection, / My life was saved to ever mourn you. / Not, like a willow, to cool in lamentation, / But cry your names the whole planet through! But what of names! / We are together always! / All on yo...»