Zinaida Gippius
Scream

I am exhausted by a weariness,
                My soul wounded is, in blood...
Is there compassion really not on us,
                Is there indeed on us no love?

We do fulfill a will that is too strict,
                As shadows, softly, trace without,
On way, that is not maybe to predict,
                We move to there none knows in fact.

And burden of life that too heavy is,
                That is more harder if more then...
And death unknown’s waiting in increase
                At locked doors which the same’s again.

Resistance and astonishment without
                We’re doing all what does want God.
No inspiration with had he created us
                But after that to love could not.

A helpless crowd are we, falling are,
                Believing helplessly in might,
And from above like a sepulchral slab
                Is pressing us by a blind sky.

Translated by Igor Skryagin