Konstantin Balmont

You sleep in earth, oh, my beloved dad,
You sleep, my dear mom, sleep deeply, not awaking.
And how cruelly, without you, life takes me,
Though many hearts are close to me yet. .

I live due you. Through you my soul sings.
For me your truth shines like a precious stone.
Once having made your two spirits alone,
You dropped behind the ringing rain of rings.

They always burn. Their frame is made of gold,
They sing a song. And I, midst different land,
Roam, incessantly, – a spring’s and sun’s advent,

But lost of you, I needn’t my fame and goal.
I’m by the stream. A ferrymen, a pole!…
And, loving, I’ll return your ringlets’ set. 


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October 25, 2001