Перевод А. Блока

***
Spring, the end and both edges without,
And without end a dreamy field;
Recognize you, my life, and get out,
With a greeting: the peal of a shield.
And receive you, and take you, disfavour,
But success, and for you is my cot,
On a secret tract of lamentation,
On a laugher – infamy is not.
I take all: all insomnia disputes,
And the morning through curtains , as link,
So that my longing looks, as for Christmas,
Make insane and exasperate, Spring.
I take everything: sand of savannas
And the wells of the cities of world,
And a lighting scope of the great heavens,
And fatigue of the slaves  on the sod.
I am greeting you on the society
With the wind on snake-curls, dry as chips,
With a secret name of the Almighty
On my cold and mysterious lips.
But before that invisible meeting
I will not ever give up my shield,
You will never appear you being,
But above everything is dream-jilt.
Though I looked and an enmity saw,
With abhorrence, and curs, but and love,
For my pains, for my ruins, I know,
Nevertheless, I take you, my life!
A. Blok 24 October 1907
Translated: June – July 2001