Sergey Esenin
I’ve decided, now, to abandon...

I’ve decided, now, to abandon
My home fields which I no more shall see.
And the poplars will no longer rustle
Their winged foliage above over me.

The low house will crouch lower without me;
My old dog has been long gone by now.
It seems God has me destined to perish
On the cold, crooked streets of Moscow.

I like this calligraphed, knitted city,
Be it run-down and flimsy on sight.
Asia, all golden and dozing,
Lies asleep on the cupolas’ height.

And whenever the moon shines at night-time
When it shines... (God-be-damned, what a moon!)
With head drooped, I go into the alley
To the friendly, familiar saloon!

There’s a hubbub in this hellish tavern,
But I stay there as night staggers on,
Reading prostitutes part of my poems,
Gulping vodka with bandits till dawn.

And my heart beats still faster and faster.
And I already ramble and roar:
«I’m a lost one — like you; I’m a lost one.
And I cannot go home anymore.»

The low house will crouch lower without me;
My old dog has been long gone by now.
It seems God has me destined to perish
On the cold, crooked streets of Moscow.

Translated by Merrill Sparks and Vladimir Markov