Ну, что ж? Устало... - перевод А. Блока

Well, what's for the next? The hands are wringed, tired,
And the eternity itself has stared at the extinguished eyes,
And the torture ceased. And if there would be the torments, the highest, -
Then what's the need? - I see the sad procession of night.


Because, the sun, having run round its duty circle, rolled away.
Open my books: there it is foreseen all, that will be in the next days.
Yes, I was a prophet, when my heart was praying, -
Was praying snd singing you, but you don't have a queen's state.

And I'll also shan't be a king: you haven't shared the power of dream.
A slave is also not my fate: -
you didn't want the power of earth.
And here is a new burden: untill the grave opens its wet embraces -
To drag over the life without any important work.

But I'm - a man. And, being aware of my fall,
I shan't restrain my alarm: it grows stronger, to highest power.
This is the JEALOUSY OF HOME, disturbing my soul,
Repeating persistently: WHAT YOU ARE DOING - DO FASTER.