Alone, to the open road I’m driven,
A flinty path shines from afar.
The nightly desert heeds to Heaven,
And a star speaks to a star.
The skies are wonderful and solemn,
The Earth dreams in the bluish minaret…
Why then my heart feels so much sorrow?
Or do I wait for something? Or regret?
I wait no more from my endeavour,
And neither am regretful of the past,
I seek deliverance from labour,
I want oblivion to last.
But not sepulchral sleep I’m after,
I wish I had eternal blissful rest,
With living forces ever after
Still breathing lightly in my breast,
I wish a sweet voice, never ending,
Would sing for me about delight,
And dark-green oak, forever rustling,
Bow over me all day and night.
1841/2012
VP
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М.Ю. Лермонтов
Выхожу один я на дорогу