A bard’s sweet song mends ailing constitution. The harmony’s ever-mysterious reign Will compensate the cumbersome illusion And curb the sense that’s passionate and strained. The poet’s soul, in a verse poured out, Will be released from all her heavy pines; And holy poetry will give the world around And all its purity – to its girlfriend, at once. Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, January, 2001