Esenin Poem by Liza Sud

No, myself, with a fateful hand
I have stuck in the noose my head
As the moon I myself have hung
In the midnight in Angleterre.

Because force - run out at once.
And for me was - a blizzard's hush!
Neither suffer I can, nor love
Only joy has remained, the one.

Yesterday I wrote a verse in blood,
Sensing terrible outcome.
I see ugliness after death,
And as pipes will burn my forehead,

And now, watching myself
As a pear - I am not sad,
All the same, I am not a coward
And the song - to the end I sung!


translation from YP