Александр Пушкин Поэт и толпа Alexander Pushkin Po

A poet strummed his inspired lyre loud
With a light hand and diffuse whim.
He sang — a cold and arrogant crowd
Of the profane people, round about
Listened distractedly to him.

The stupid rabble talked with some fears:
"Why does he sing with so voiced tune?
In vain does he strike the people's ears,
What target will he bring us to?
What does he sing of, teach us so hard?
Why does he disturb and hurt the heart,
Like a somewhat wayward wizard?
His song's like the wind, with a free care,
But like the wind, his song is barren:
There's the use for it, both neither?"

Poet.

Keep silence, mindless people, you,
Hirelings, slaves of need and ado!
Your insolent murmur — I don't bear,
You're earth's worms, not sons of sky height;
For you to weight the use — is right.
Your idol's Apollo Belvedere.
You can't see any use in that.
Although this marble is god!.. so, what?
For you, much richer is a stove pot:
In which you cook food to be fed.

Rabble.

No, if you are heaven's chosen one,
Divine messenger and someone's son,
Do use your best gift, for our good:
Fix the hearts of your brotherhood.
We are weak-kneed and we are crafty,
Ungrateful, shameless, unkind, laughty;
Cold-hearted, without love within,
We're slaves and liars; with thick skin;
Vices nest in us all together.
You can, with love to your close ones,
Give us the bold lessons; we'll gather
And we'll listen to you at once.

Poet.

Get out— what does the poet of peace
Care about you; he is not due!
Stone boldly in lechery and filth,
The lyre's voice will not revive you!
So, you disgust my soul, like coffins.
For your full folly, spite and loafings
Until now, in your history
You've had whips, dungeons, axes free; —
That is enough for you, insane thralls!
From noisy streets of your towns for strolls,
Trash is swept — work is useful, true! —
Having forgotten obligation,
As well as altar, immolation,
The priests do take a broom from you?
Not for routine unrest's succession,
Neither for profit, battles, swears,
We all were born for inspiration,
For the sweet sounds and the prayers.

19-29 September, 2024