Konstantin Balmont

As soon as Moon fleshed through dark of night
With its thin sickle, so gentle and brilliant,
Another world is craved with all my heart,
Bewitched by all that’s boundless and distant. 

To woods, to peaks, by dazzling snows covered!
Like a sick spirit, I’m in dreamy flight.
I’m waked up for the world, the peaceful one and quiet,
And mildly cry and breathe with fresh Moonlight.

I greedily drink this ever-palled brightness, --
A tinny elf – I swing in nets of rays,
I hear what tells me the utter silence.

I am afar from all my people’s fussiness,
I am a stranger for all earthly strains,
I’m breath of wind, a cloud far in highness.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, September, 2001