by Boris Leonidovich Pasternak
Translated by Andrey Kneller
The clamor ebbed. I walked onto the stage.
While leaning on a jamb, through cheers,
I’m grasping in the echo’s distant range
What will occur during my years.
The twilight of the night has gathered
In thousands of binoculars on me.
If so you’re willing, Father,
I beg you, take this cup from me.
I love your plan, so firm and stubborn
And I agree to play this role.
But as of now, there’s another drama.
This time, expel me, I implore.
But, the predestined plot proceeds.
I cannot alter the direction of my path.
I am alone, all sinks in phariseeism.
To live a life is not an easy task.