Sergey Esenin
The evening knits black brows; horses...

The evening knits black brows; horses
Stand in the yard; can it be true
That yesterday my youth was spent,
And I fell out of love with you?

Ah, troika, peace; you’re late; so what?
Our lives have passed without a trace.
Maybe tomorrow a hospital cot
Will be my final resting place.

Yet, on the other hand, maybe
I’ll walk out, cured for good,
To hear the song of rain and trees
As a healthy man would.

And I will forget the dark powers
That harrowed me and laid me waste.
But you I shall always remember,
Only you, sweet tender face.

And if I fall in love again,
Even with the new love, with her,
I’ll talk about you, dear girl,
Dear girl I once called ‘dear’.

I’ll tell how our life flowed away,
I’ll even say there was no past.
And you, my headstrong head, oh say,
What have you led me to at last?

Translated by Geoffrey Thurley