V.Vysotsky, The Foolish Dream - Transl.(Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

The foolish dream
by Vladimir Vysotsky

The foolish dream has beated me
Such merciless.
And homely I was in it,
And indistinct -
In dream I lied, betrayed the due
And flattered easily...
I never have suspected true
In me such quality.

And else: I doubled hands in fists,
And beated hardly,
Touching not with the strained hand's piece,
But with its soft part.
The dream was waning in a time,
Returned back later.
When I just closed my lids tight,
It recommenced.

I was not going, but minced
On the even timber,
No any foot I changed in a trip,
But wobbled in fear.
Before the mighty man - I cringed,
Before the villain - bowed.
And I was loathsome for me,
But - waked not though.

That was the ravings! Myself squeak
I've heard through drowse.
But it was dreamt by only by me,
And not by others.
On wakening, I've analyzed
The snatch of groan.
With pain I opened the eyes,
Relieved although.

And dream drooped on the ceiling high
And spreaded over.
Was it the truth? The issue tough
Remained, hence, opened.
I washed my hands -
but in backbone
It stayed as cold.
Whether this dream was real show,
Or was a fraud only?

Thence this dream was illusion - well,
I was such granted.
But if it was a prophetic play -
How can I shun it?
The dream - as the reflection of events?
It can't be so!
While recollecting - inner essense then
Is skewed in bow.

And if - the fire? I'm not able yet
To step to fire.
I'll get ashamed, as in the dream,
In which was the coward.
Or they will say to me: sing loud
With everybody now!
And I'll admit the rule of crowd -
The dream was - oracle.