When red October’s dim time-server for us made
A yoke of bloodshed and of malice,
And armoured car, aggressive, then enforced blockade
And loomed an apish gunner, callous —
And “Crucify Kerensky!” irate soldier brayed,
And angry mob on cue applauded:
Then Pilate let them bring us heart on spike displayed,
And heart had stopped — its veins had clotted!
And there, reproachful shadow flickers in the gloom,
Where crimson horse-shoed buildings cluster;
As if on dull October day in misty bloom
“Now string up Peter’s pup!” they bluster.
Amidst the state’s upheaval and the angry sham,
Enflamed with anger, finer, better
You walked a freeman, brave and giving not a damn,
Where Psyche led you, free of fetter.
And if the frenzied populace were then to tress
A golden wreath to grace another —
May still you find in distant hell descends to bless
With flighty steps our Russian Mother.
Когда октябрьский нам готовил временщик
Ярмо насилия и злобы,
И ощетинился убийца-броневик,
И пулеметчик низколобый
— Керенского распять! — потребовал солдат,
И злая чернь рукоплескала:
Нам сердце на штыки позволил взять Пилат,
И сердце биться перестало!
И укоризненно мелькает эта тень,
Где зданий красная подкова;
Как будто слышу я в октябрьский тусклый день:
— Вязать его, щенка Петрова!
Среди гражданских бурь и яростных личин,
Тончайшим гневом пламенея,
Ты шел бестрепетно, свободный гражданин,
Куда вела тебя Психея.
И если для других восторженный народ
Венки свивает золотые, —
Благословить тебя в далекий ад сойдет
Стопами легкими Россия.
«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 c...»
«The star of fields, within the icy darkness / Is frozen staring, with its stare so deep, / The midnight comes, the clock has to declare it, / The time is late, my motherland must sleep. The star of fields! Through all my many hardships, / I thought of you, the richness of your glow, / How...»
«A star of fields in darkness so hazy, / Into polynia's looking, stopping trip. / It's twelve already. Dream has come embracing / My native land by deepest sleepy grip... The star of fields! In time of shocks and cold / I recollected it behind the hall. / It's shining softly above autumn g...»
«Through this day's sweaty fog / Let’s shake this sleepy fiord! — / Hey, Captain! You must take / Me as your aid on board! We will then make our way, / Sail by some ancient tombs, / By churches' old remains, / By human griefs and pains… Unhappy thoughts — be gone! / Tiresome ...»