The destiny of names
by Eugeny Evtushenko
The destiny of names is equal in the times.
The glory has its own tides and ebbs.
You can't decieve the history by lie,
She's like your mother strict and fair.
All people are so clear to her rays,
She is all-seeing through your inner shell.
And vainly somebody could press her scales,
And furtively, without her attention.
Whether they wish to get there inside,
Or try to bait her with a lie, but useless,
At last by the intelligent force strike
She sets the wrong to their right place.
At last she stamps the liars well,
At last she sweeps the dams of dogmas,
Although you shall wait for end
For long and long,and long times.
Her High court is severe, straight,
She spits on banal hubbub roaring,
And she returns the honour names,
Which worth in history be honoured.
She's honest to mankind in her opinion,
She's competent & exacting in her power
To clean the names from all the marble steles,
Which are not worth to be on marble, either.