Konstantin Balmont

He lone was, while reading the great pages
Filled by Plutarch with heroes and gods.
In Egypt, on the shores so steep and hot,
He was as free as birds in heavens endless.

Of many tongues were rows of outrageous
Foes of his. He frightened their a lot.
And, shuddered, countries saw the upraised sword
Of him who viewed Sun with a look of sages.                       

Not women’ grace, nor friends, nor thoughts, nor heart
Had ever made mislead or just a-stolen 
His will that was for self a law non-fallen

In realizing the all-sunny right. 
But having fallen, fell as he fall might –
That man which was, in our world, Napoleon.                    


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, September, 2003