Exegi monumentum

Not made by human hand my pillar-like creation,
The people’s path thereto will never disappear,
Like Alexander’s post that rises over nations
My Monument will certainly endear.

I will not wholly die – the soul in a sacred lyre
Will outlive my dust and will escape decay –
And on this moonlit sphere my glory will not tire,
As long as poets still remain.

The rumor of my fame will march through massive Russia,
My verse in every tongue my fans will comprehend,
Alike by haughty Slav, by Finn and by compassioned
Kalmuck – the prairie’s primal friend.

I know – time will pass, but my explicit rhythm,
My poems gently phrased (although ages old),
Will still be recognized – I sang the songs of freedom,
For mercy to the fallen called.

Oh, Muse, poetic Muse, adhere to God’s commandments,
Don’t be afraid of lies and do not seek a crown,
With no remorse accept both praise and honors absence,
Don’t contradict a clown.