What Are Our Villages
F
Fyodor Sologub
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What are our villages, destitute,
Or the whole of time and of space?
Father's mansions exist in a multitude, -
We don't know their name, and their place.
But, while waiting for joys behind earthly skies,
Beside which life is only a dream,
I renounce the sweetness, beguiling us,
I repulse the distress of time streams.
Cruel torments, decline, degradation,
You have brought me a garland of death.
And the promise of our resurrection
Will be never fulfilled on the earth.
Bu metin şairin özgün dilinde (Rusça) değil, bir çeviridir.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
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