Zinaida Gippius
Memory

Not long will be the trace I leave
In the feeble memory of man.
But that is a mere phantom of existence,
Obscure, false, and empty —
What need have I of it?
                                  I live — within myself,
And barring that… is it not all the same
Whether someone remembers you,
Or whether you’ve been long forgotten by everyone?

All will pass away, in the same sequence:
A long century, and a brief day…
There is no life in other people’s memory.
Memory, like oblivion, is but a shade.
And so on earth, as long as my
Flesh still lives and breathes,
I am concerned with one thing only:
That I not be forgotten by the Lord.

Translated by Mark Pettus