29.04.2024
Igor Severyanin - Финал (Кончается одиннадцатый том) (Final) Лирицс транслатион то енглисх
Translation
Final (Ends the eleventh tome)
Ends the tome eleventh
Of my poems, of past singing,
Of the irrevocable, fairy tale, of the one, that
That flashed by carnival winged.
Not to return the lost delights
In love, in art, in solree, in liqueurs, -
In all, in all!.. Cry, and behind
Stare in the gaze with despair.
May all this – trifles, toys,
Unneeded, worthless, empty!..
What of it? Thus light were the days,
And in them something expensive is hiding!
Love and picnics we loved,
And souls knew wine and ladies,
By wraths we were met,
And boorish slander – in the ending.
We dared to live! We dared to give
The charming duty to magnificent fashion,
Not tiring, prayerfully to dream
Of equality, brotherhood, freedom.
You, “new ones,” you, “idea ones,” don’t understand
The openwork of the past “unneeded”:
On your foreheads – mediocrity’s stamp
And on the lips – a word cutting hearing!..
Of course I am to you “aristocrat,”
Which Scattering must see in contempt…
Poet, like Dante, thinker, like Socrates, -
Did I not reach the apogee in art?
But day will come – and in Russian head
The gold thoughts again did ferment,
And in Moscow monument to me they will erect
Having outlived “Scattering,” eternal Russian land!
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