When I come to the end of tether
And see my day of "nevermore"
Grandchildren probably will gather
And ask me what we're living for.
My answer will be strict and plain,
I wouldn't lie to meet the form.
I'll say: "God's Heaven will explain.
I'm going TO - alas! - not FROM…"
Translated from Russian by Larisa Ladyka
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem