Aleksandr Blok

I know, there�s my death. And you
Already does not spite me more,
You�ll condescend from clear blue
To end of my sad earthly dole.

But love of yours is dark to me
And strange your passion�s declaration.
Can one�s heart find the names to be
The strange words� and caresses� mention?

What if you find the looked for words,
And in my now-late affection
At my leave for the other worlds,
I�d pray for novel resurrection?

Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October, 2002