Нет, я
не Байрон, я другой,
Еще неведомый избранник,
Как он, гонимый миром странник,
Но только с русскою душой.
Я раньше начал, кончу ране,
Мой ум немного совершит;
В душе моей, как в океане,
Надежд разбитых груз лежит.
Кто может, океан угрюмый,
Твои изведать тайны? Кто
Толпе мои расскажет думы?
Я - или бог - или никто!
1832 |
No, I'm not Byron; I am,
yet,
Another choice for the sacred dole,
Like him - a persecuted soul,
But only of the Russian set.
I early start and end the whole,
And will not win the future days;
Like in an ocean, in my soul,
A cargo of lost hopes stays.
Who, oh, my ocean severe,
Could read all secrets in your scroll?
Who'll tell the people my idea?
I will or God or none at all!
Translated by Yevgeny Bonver
Edited by Dmitry Karshtedt and Alexey Sidorenko |
|
I'm not Byron, I've got another mind,
Outcast by people, alone,
I lost my roots and family and home,
I've got my soul of a Russian kind.
I earlier began my own breath
And soon I'll finish all my days,
My mind will make a little bit;
Deep in my heart a load lays
Of broken hopes. Who knew,
A gloomy Ocean, your secret?
Who'll tell to crowd my own view?
Shall I'm? The Lord or nobody, isn't it?
Traslated by A.Sirotin |
