I've captured head and stand still, -
No matter of the peoples intrigues! -
I've captured head and am singing
At this dawn, late indeed.
Ah, the violent wave has risen me up
At its crest so high!
I'm singing you, that it is - alone thus,
As the moon in the skies!
That, as the raven, flying at the heart,
Has stuck the clouds through!
Hook-nosed - whose anger is fatal,
And fatal - is its favour!
That, above the red-scarlet Kremlin
Has spreaded its black night.
That with the force of luxury -
It holded my throat as with a bind.
Ah, I'm happy! Never the dawn burned
Clearer, than it was that day.
Ah, I'm happy! That, presenting you all,
I'm going away as a beggar.
That you - whose voice had - Oh, dark! Oh, dove! -
My breath hardly narrowed.
I, at first time, has named you so
As the Muse from Tsarskoye Selo.
22 June 1916
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem