Aleksandr Blok

I slow was losing my poor mind
By doors of her, with whom I’m crazy.
A day was followed by a night,
Just making my great thirst more blazing.

And I was crying, tired with 
My love, was deafening my moans;
And it was doubling in a mist –
The mad thought with its low goals

It was invading the dead lull
Of my poor heart, creasy, already,
And flooded my spring with the dull
Wave, that is soundless and blackened 

A day was followed by a night,
Was cooling o’er a grave my soul.
I slow was losing my poor mind
At thinking coldly of my sole.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October, 2002