BORIS PASTERNAK: "But He Was Belov'd..."
"But He Was Belov'd..."
But he was belov’d. Not a thing
Could vanish or lose its life’s mission,
The lesser – his talent and kin,
And sketches of his compositions.
You’d just rise up your music stand
And just touch the cold keyboard –
The effort will dazzle you and
You’ll smooth all her wings, strong and broad.
And come the white snows and moon,
And windows’ glass double-braided,
And twigs in the silver galloons…
And time will be suddenly ended.
And you will be shocked in a flesh,
When sunk into concert’s embraces:
Much humbler than we ourselves
Is our everyday deathless.
Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, May, 2001