Nina Berberova
I remain

I remain with what was not fully said,
With what was not fully sung, not played out,
Not written to the end, in a secret society,
In the quiet fellowship of the unsuccessful,
Who lived in rustling pages
And now talk in whispers.
They even forewarned us in youth,
But we didn't want another fate,
And, in general, it wasn't so bad;
And it even happens — those who didn't finish
Laughing, didn't finish dancing take us on trust.

We didn't succeed, as many didn't succeed,
For example — all world history
And, as I've heard, the universe itself.
But how we crackled, carried in the wind!
About what? And is that important?
They stole the baggage in the station long ago
(So they told us), and burned the books
(So they taught us), the river became shallow,
The forest was cut down and the house burned up,
And the burial mound is grown over
With thistle (so they wrote us),
And the old watchman long ago is not on the job.

Don't tear form from content,
And allow me yet to say in farewell,
That we've made peace with our fate,
And you just keep on in a cheerful march
Striding in platoons, showing off to elders.

Translated by Albert C. Todd