[Lermontov’s Thanksgiving]


For all, for all I thank you:
For the secret pangs of passions,
For the bitterness of tears,
for the poison of the kiss,
For the revenge of enemies
and the calumny of friends;

For my soul’s ardor wasted in a desert,
For all the things that have deceived me here.
Just make it so that from now onward
Not for too long I’ll keep on thanking you.

Discover more from Winterings in Trans-Scythia

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading