Valery Bryusov

I like the evening light, and lights, that first inflamed,
And the pale sky, where the stars are not, yet, here.
Oh, how strange are looks of men in slow shade:
They simply look at me without shame and fear.

And I am their kin, forgetting their sins, --
The sins of passing men, so sad and thoughtful fellows --
Because we all just glide on edge of airy dreams,
Because they all, like me, belong to evening shadows.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, September, 2000