Why did they gather to me, thoughts,
As thiefs from suburbs in the night?
As black kites pounced on
Ominous, moroze, demanding vengeance right?
The hope – passed, the dreams – had run,
My eyes – wide opened, exited,
And I was reading spectral covenant,
My words, affairs and desires.
For that I was so quite missing
Those, who were straight floating to win;
For that I was so hotly kissing
The tender lips without sin;
For that my fingers didn’t know plough,
And therefore were so thin;
For that my songs, the evelasting wanderers,
By their woe were of such fatigue;
For all today the time is to revenge.
Deceitful temple of my dreams the blinds will ruin,
And thiefs from suburbs in the quite silence,
Will cease my breath as I’m the beggar poor.
Nikolay Stepanovich Gumilyov
Никола́й Степа́нович Гумилёв
Translation by Lyudmila Purgina