All joy - in the past, irretrievable and evanescent
But in the present - prosperity and despair.
The heart is tired and thirsts in fire at sunset
Of love and passion - it's lured by freedom from care.
The heart is tired of prosperity's narrow confines,
It's in despair, in chains, in complete distress...
Despairs to dream, and to trust, and in darkened numbness
It pulses with sadness, in cast of laziness...
And life charms and conjures, and with the trail
Of family weekdays lures somewhere...
To heart's chagrin: it fears with its betrayal
To end its prosperity in sunset hour.
It is empowered with motherhood and with loyalty,
It fears to leave his loved ones like piteous orphans...
But there's no unison, and it beats in loneliness
And life passes, and it might tear the cold coffin.
Oh heart, oh heart! Salvation is in your madness!
While you can burn and beat, burn and keep beating!
Sin braver! May do-gooder come way of mummies:
In sin - oblivion! And there - no bullet or rail can reach me!
You're loved, sick heart! You're loved, loved all out!
Love in response! In greeting! Yes, love in ardor!
And be at peace: Live - rightly! And vanquish doubt!
Be joyful, heart: You're young! Beat loud and harder!
By Igor Severyanin
Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat
https://sites.google.com/site/ibshambat
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