by Mihail Yurievich Lermontov
My house's everywhere, where exists the heaven,
And where the songs are heard.
All living with a flash of Being are there
In him, despite of cramping mob.
The highest stars he can there touch to
By roof, from one wall to another
There is the long way, which one could
With soul only esteem, not by the eye.
There's the true feel in the heart of man,
The grain of the Eternity:
Which the Infinity at single moment can
To envelop, enclose all of it.
And mighty powered my house
Was built for that the very feeling.
I'm sentenced here to live now,
But only this way I am easy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem