A.Blok, In A Hungry And Such Ill Captivity... - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

In a hungry and such ill captivity
There's no day as day, year as year.
When will fields bring up their yielding,
When will the slave-people breathe freely?

In summertime, as usual, in darkness
There rustle, standing straight or bending lowly,
Under the secret wind all crops high:
It's time to flowering, time to blossoming.

The people is the wreath of earthly flowers,
The beauty and nice pleasure of them all:
No one for sure could escape from a God's summer,
Which's good for all-well for us also.