Aleksandr Blok

You’re gone away, and I’m in desert,
Pressing myself against hot sand.
But now my mouth can’t profess it -  
The proud word that’s to be said.

I see my past without sadness –
I’ve understood your sacred heights:
Yes, you’re the Galilee, so precious
To me – non-resurrected Christ. 

And let another you caresses,
Let multiply abuse and spread:
The Son of Man still never fathoms
Where’er to lay his own head.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, July, 2002