Yesenin
There is sound in suffering
And there is light in sound
And there is spirit in light
And within the spirit you stand alone
As the troubadour of some endless army.
With kindness, as a brother, you tell me to live,
May the storms never get you,
May the winds never strike you, may no whip ever hit you,
May no one ever hire you
As a slave.
You tell me to live happily
With no wealth, glory and treasures,
You tell me to live a good and honest life,
You tell me to live
As the sweet smell of wheat bread
And to repeat now and then ‘we are brothers’.
It is all right, you tell me, do not suffer,
Mountains never kneel in fear of winds –
And you swing
And you rustle
Like some eternal sorrow
Born in some corner of the wide plateau.
It is all right, you tell me, all right, all right, all right,
Look, there was nothing and there will be nothing,
Keep a drop of humanity in your heart
And your clear eyes shall never dim.
I believe you when I look at your pain
And I believe you when I look at your fear
And I carry your cross faithfully
Not knowing who will carry ours
Among tomorrow’s crosses.
It is all right, you tell me, do not suffer,
Mountains never kneel in fear of winds –
And you swing
And you rustle
Like some eternal sorrow
Born in some corner of the wide plateau
by Razmik Davoyan
translated from the Armenian by Arminé Tamrazian:
Sergei Yesenin, Russian Poet