Mikhail Lermontov

By gates of an abode, blessed,
A man stood, asking for donation,
A beggar, cruelly oppressed
By hunger, thirst and deprivation.

He asked just for a piece of bread,
And all his looks were full of anguish,
And was a cold stone laid
Into his stretched arm, thin and languished.

Thus I prayed vainly for your love,
With bitter tears, pine and fervor,
Thus my best senses, that have thrived,
Were victimized by you forever!


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October, 2000
Edited by Dmitry Karshtedt, May, 2001