Incantation Poem by Bella Akhmadulina

Don't mourn for me - I shall survive -
The kind convict, the somewhat happy pauper,
The frozen southerner inside the Pole Circle,
The angry northerner in the consumption's locker
On the mosquitoes South - I shall survive.

Don't mourn for me - I shall survive -
The little lame-one, begging in the parvis,
The drunken-one, that's left amidst the tables,
And this one, daubing just the image Marie's,
That God's bad painter - I shall, yet, survive.

Don't mourn for me - I shall survive -
The girl, in rules of grammar-books unblemished,
Which, in the future undefined and selfish,
Like a dull fool, under my fringe, the reddish,
Will know my verse. For sure, I will survive.

Don't mourn for me - I shall survive -
The one who's kinder than the fresh wounds' nursing
Under the crazy military bursting,
Under the star of mine, that's ever glossing…
In any way … I'll really survive.