S.Marshak, Back Translation Of Translated Shakespeare, Son.30 Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

When to the judgement of my secret thoughts
I set the voices of my past life - then
Bereavements all come to my mind, which hurt,
And I'm ill with old pain again.

My eyes, which were dry, then are wet with tears
About all, who's now in the grave,
I seek for lost love, and for every thing,
That was so dear to my heart, in vain.

I'm counting the losses of my life,
And I'm again in grief with all the matters.
Again I pay the unwarrantable price
For that case, which was previously expensive.

But all my past I can find in your face,
And everything forgive then to my fate.