Aleksandr Blok

It’s lifted up – this iron pole –  
Over our cursed heads, And we
Are flying o’er the abyss, awful,
Through space where none can something see.

But stronger are the winds, us bear,
And closer the sad end of race,
The more dazzling is and clearer
Seen the sweet shining of Her face.

And through the vortical rotation,
Showing self to the woe’s sons,
Leads them into the endless azure
The half-distinguishable path. 


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, October, 2002