M. Lermontov. I skushno i grustno translation from

М.Ю.Лермонтов
И СКУЧНО И ГРУСТНО

И скучно и грустно, и некому руку подать
В минуту душевной невзгоды…
Желанья!... что пользы напрасно и вечно желать?..
А годы проходят - всё лучшие годы!
Любить ... но кого-же?.. на время -  не стоит труда,
А вечно любить невозможно.
В себя ли заглянешь? -  там прошлого нет и следа:
И радость, и муки, и все там ничтожно...
Что страсти? - ведь рано иль поздно их сладкий недуг
Исчезнет при слове рассудка; 
И жизнь, как посмотришь с холодным вниманьем вокруг, –
Такая пустая и глупая шутка…

(М.Ю.Лермонтов.Сочинения в двух томах.Том первый. – М.: Правда, 1988.)
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M. Lermontov  (translation from Russian)

There is sometimes so much sad at heart and soul,
You feel misfortune and some kind of boredom in it,
That you aren’t able understand why there aren't a one of all
To share your sorrowful thoughts and disillusioned feelings?
And if you think of your own wishes, it’s too of no use!
To wish! Isn’t it worthless just of its eternal nature,
The less because you can't turn your wishes into truth,
The more of having no chance to turn them into outburste of passion?
These moments, getting bored by this life, you are to realize,
The years are going to pass, not just some years, but the best ones!   
   If one wants to know about love, he may ask, but whom and why
   Should he fall in love with for a time or, may, forever?
   Love for a time, it isn't worth one's while,
   As it's impossible to fall in love forever.
   If one only could look through oneself insight,
   He’ll understand that there’s everything empty:
   As sadness, so joy there's miserаble every.
   As nothing of the past there is in one’s own face,
   So everything’ve passed without leaving a trace…   
If passion is of some interest to you, I can say,
That this sweetest illness is not so lasting:
It’ll melt, when one’s speaking one’s mind to oneself,
Like everything melts, while our years have been passing.
As well we take no any notice of that,
But if one look through this life with heartless notice,
He’ll see that this life, as a matter of fact,
Is so foolish jest and just so idle nonsense…

(tr. 12.2014)