Fedor Tyutchev

My soul, my prophetic pain!
My heart, forever filled with bother, 
O how throb you on a border,
Of two realities, in vain!...

You are a realm of my two worlds,
Your day is fervid and pathetic,
Your sleep unclear and prophetic,
Like scripture of the spirit's thoughts...

And let my breast is in a fit 
Of passion, fatal one and scary,
My heart is ready, like saint Mary, 
To cling forever to Christ's feet.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October, 2000