Velimir Khlebnikov
Reflections of a Profligate

But your glance is pale, horse-eye pale,
silvered with a bluish streak.
Your hair is all tangled. Shadows of vice
weave a dazzling design.

Oh, young men! Happy the man
who has never known passion's fire,
for he knows stars unseen by you
in the dark blue steep of the sky.

Translated by Paul Schmidt