The Gladiator (Lermontov) Poem by Emil Sharafutdinov

Rejoices rowdy Rome… Triumphantly replies
With thundering applause the great arena: but
He - pierced through the chest - silently he lies,
His knees slide in the dust and blood…
And vainly beg for mercy his dim eyes:
The haughty regent and a senator, his adulator,
Crown with their praise the triumph and demise…
What is to the elite and mob a vanquished gladiator?
He is an actor whistled off, forgotten and despised.