For a Glance
For every careless glance,
For every wrong step, for every needless breath,
For an autumn experienced twice,
The world will take revenge; God will punish.
For a day without tears the recompense is bitter;
For a night without sleep the punishment is dreadful;
And beside life — death is crucified —
The stain never comes off.
The universal law is indifferent to suffering;
The world is small — no room for evil,
And the snow will punish complaints,
And the wind will scatter the ashes.
For every glance that’s not entirely false,
For a night without sleep, for a day without tears,
Reason will punish with a nervous tremor,
And water will singe a tuft of hair.
Originally published in Russian: Enmerkar.com
Here is the translation of your text into English:
I will return to you with the salt of the evening waves,
with the first sparks of star reflections,
I will fill your dreams with myself again,
in which there will be no place for doubts.
From the scent of apples, I will weave a hundred tales,
about distant lands of sand and stone,
how spring dawn adds beauty,
and in someone’s eyes, forever covered by ice.
I will embrace your shoulders with the first ray,
gently brushing away tears with a soft wind,
let winter candles cool in your hands,
when I tell you all the secrets.
Do you remember how autumn burned with scarlet,
and the mournful song was carried by the birds,
you blushed in the cold of my eyes,
and your heart tore itself away from your chest?
Holding you close, I saw the thresholds
of cold and pure mountain rivers like steel.
Forgive me, but worries did not touch me,
and my fingers were colder than mere snow.
You listened silently, smiling a little,
and autumn called us with warm wine,
and time flowed, reaching winter,
and now the slopes are already cloaked in ice.
When I left, I did not remember the farewell,
the empty string of unspoken words,
and my heart soared in joy,
when I stepped onto a foreign road.
Tell me, why did I want to return,
with the dewy fog under my feet at dawn,
to touch with cold winds the tips of my fingers,
with a farewell and the first spring greeting?
To get lost in the foothills of the sunset rays,
not in the tender ridges—great and ancient,
to melt like a snowflake in dreams and worries,
and cool on my knees with a summer rain.
I will soon return and stay with you,
with the scent of roses from a blooming garden,
with tears full, with the silver moon,
with the scent of decay that has become my reward.
Where the sea salt washes the cliffs,
where the pure river ends its ringing,
where in the evening colors, forgotten by morning,
death gave me its farewell moan,
let the stars draw my name to you,
forgotten by all but you,
let the winds sing how the far-off lands
of amber pieces loved me.
I will return to you at the rising of the moon,
with the echo of distant thunder falling,
I will return to you with the noise of the evening waves,
with the whisper of autumn maple leaves.
I will return to you with the joy of a new day,
and the farewell of dawn before the spicy night,
with snowy sparks at the end of January,
and with a farewell song that is an unfinished line.
I will return to you in summer as a shadow in the garden,
I will pour down as spring rain on your eyelashes,
I will return and never leave again,
so that occasionally you can dream of me.
I will not be able to touch you with my hand,
my hands have forever become the captives of decay,
I said goodbye to you in distant lands,
to return to you with the fragrant scent of hay.
Life and Death
Ingvar El Voron
I have read a lot about Life and Death,
Marking the last transition as the First Day.
On the road of suffering I joyfully walked –
Does life mean anything to an Immortal?
I was a bard and a warrior, a king and a healer,-
I cannot recall all the embodiments of my essences.
But always and everywhere, with Word or Sword,
I punished the insolent, defended justice.
I comprehended Universal secrets in Babylon,
And the afterlife – in Tibet.
Became a monk with Cyril and Methodius,
Was a Byzantine merchant at the height
Of the glorious empire’s strength (Eternal memory in ages!),
I plowed the oceans as a corsair…
All has passed. Centuries have buried my dust,
But knowledge is not given for free.
Life and Death – it’s just a series of changes,
A symbol accepted by metaphysics.
The gift of Knowledge was given to Man in return,
Well, and He considered it a punishment!