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I honor Dorian Gray and Faustus. However, I cannot sell my soul to Deuce - no way! Why did I listen to the gypsies? - Well, I never! - They prophesied my death up to a day. Donít bear it in mind, put it away, Donít mark it in your calendar. On no account! Or, when it comes to that, just change the day, Lest I should wait for it and crows fly all around, Lest wining angels should be fluttering about And people sneer, setting up for wit. Before too long, please keep me safe, I bid! Now hurry up, and donít delay a bit For they have filled my heart with fear and doubt. And, truly, in return for immortality I donít want much: a road, a horse, a friend... I beg you, humbly bending down my head, The instant you release me in the end Donít cry for mercy and sentimentality!
© Alec Vagapov. Translation, 1999