Keep Your Proud Patience

Keep your proud patience in the depth of Siberian mines,
both your hard labor and your thoughts' lofty striving
won’t be lost in vain.
Hope-the devoted sister of mishap
will wake vivacity and fun in your morose dungeon,
the desired time will come yet:
through the gloomy locks Love and Friendship
will reach you up as sure as my free voice does it.
Your heavy chains shall drop,
the dungeon shall break down-
meanwhile Freedom will meet you joyfully at exit
and your comrades will give your swords back.

The City Which Doesn't Exist

There are both a night
and a silence given for life,
it’s rain or maybe snow,
anyway warmed with an infinite hope,
in the distance I see
a city which doesn’t exist…

Where a spellbound pilgrim
can easily find his shelter,
where for certain
he is remembered and waited for.
Day after day now losing,
now confusing my way I head for
the city which doesn’t exist…

There a hearth is lighted
for me as an eternal sign
of the forgotten truths.
So that to reach the city
I have to walk a step yet,
but the step perhaps is a span
as long as the rest of my life…

Who can tell what my destiny
has in store for me,
let I am not to know my fate,
maybe behind a threshold
of dissipated years I will find
that city which doesn’t exist…

I Was Caught In The Net

I was caught in the net by love and poverty forever.
Even being poor wouldn't bother me,
if there were no love in the world.
Why the destiny-separator is always a hindrance for love?
And why love is a slave of prosperity and success?
After all, riches and homage bring little joy,
therefore I'm sorry for both cowards and fools
whose hearts are conquered by their force.
When your eyes shine in darkness, I lose my reason,
yet there is a piece of advice on your lips to keep prudence.
Only that poor fellow with his ingenuous love
is happy in the world who is not envy of rich class at all.
Oh why, the cruel fate is always a hindrance for love
whose flower wouldn't bloom without fame and success?

The Golden City

There is the golden city under the blue sky,
with the transparent gates and the bright star
and also in that city there is a garden,
with, more often than not, herbs and flowers,
the animals of unprecedented beauty dwell there:
One is the yellow fire-mane lion,
another is the ox full of eyes
with them there is the heavenly golden eagle,
whose unforgettable glance is so bright.
And in the blue sky one star shines.
It's yours, my angel, it's yours forever.
Who loves, that one is loved,
who is lucid, that one is holy.
Let the star leads you along the road
into that wonderful garden.
You will be met there both by the fire-mane lion
and by the blue ox full of eyes,
also with them will be the heavenly golden eagle,
whose unforgettable glance is so bright.

A Crow And A Fox

How many times it was repeated to the world that flattery is both nasty and harmful,

but all in vain and therefore some flatterer can always worm oneself into your favor.

Once God sent a slice of cheese to a Crow; having perched on a spruce it was about to have lunch,

but holding cheese in its beck the Crow got into the pensive mood. As bad luck would have it in the vicinity a Fox ran about;

all of a sudden the smell of cheese made it halt: the Fox had seen the cheese and had been seduced with it,

the rogue approached to the fir-tree on tiptoe; it wagged its tail and was all eyes.

Holding its breath it pleasantly said: "My dear, you are so exquisite! What the nice feathers!

And what the lovely beck! As a matter of fact they are truly fantastic! Perhaps you have an angelical voice!

Sing, darling, be not ashamed! If into a bargain with such beauty you are capable to sing splendidly,

well, then you must be a diva!" Out of the praise the head of the prophetic bird had started spinning,

in pleasure the breath was caught in its craw, -

there the Crow cawed with might and main in reply to the friendly words of the Fox:

the piece of cheese dropped out - and the Crow ever beheld neither it, nor the cheat again.

The Prophet

Being eager to quench my spiritual thirst I trudged in the gloomy desert as out of nowhere a six-winged seraph appeared suddenly before me at the crossroads. It touched my eyes with its fingers as light as a dream. There and then I have got my clairvoyance gift. After that it touched my ears, - and they were filled with some ringing and noise: in consequence I have heard both the shudder of sky and the angel's heavenly flight, and the underwater moves of the marine reptiles, and the vegetation's process of a vine of the dale. Then it rooted out my sinful wicked talkative tongue and with its bloodstained right hand put a sting of the wise snake into my speechless mouth. Thereupon it cut my chest with its sword, took out my quivering heart and replace it with a fire-brand. I lay like a corpse in the desert and the voice of God called to me: «O prophet, get up, both behold and hear, please execute my will without fail: go round lands and seas, exciting with your words the hearts of people».

An Angel Was Flying In The Northern Sky

An angel was flying in the Northern sky
and singing his quiet song;
both the crescent moon and the stars,
and the crowd of clouds -
all of them listened to that sublime song.
He sang about the bliss
of the innocent Holy Ghosts
at the abode of Paradise;
he sang of the great God,
in the meanwhile his praise was
neither affected nor insincere.
In his arms he bore a young soul
for the world of tears and sorrow,
in consequence the sound of his carol
though without words but alive
remained in the young breath of life.
And then the soul full of some wonderful hope
had been languishing for a long time in the world;
therefore boring songs of the earth
could not be like the heavenly sounds to it.