When water of the Flood, obeying Lordís whim, Returned again back into bounds of strands. Out of foam of the going away stream The love got silently onto dry land, Till term it was dissolving in the air swims. The term was of a very vast extent. And cranks (nowadays they still exist) Inhale by full breast this compound mist, Await neither reward, nor castigating. They think they simply breathe and this is all, But all at once they find themselves installed Into the time of same uneven breathing. If a feeling was a ship or boat, For long time it would be on the float, Till it would be able to conceive: "I love, therefore I breathe and live". There will be many wanderings and travels. The land of love is so great and grand. From knights, having been burdened with its trials, More stringently it will start to demand, Will have demanded severing and miles, Will have stripped of a sleep and peace of mind. But these mad people can not be turned back. Theyíll pay for all, that offers them the track. They would have risked the life without doubt In order to preserve, not give to shred Invisible and miraculous thread, Thread which has, between them, been holden out. Gale besoted these choices of fate, Sent them flying, raised them from the dead, But if you lived without love and belief, So you never breathed and never lived. But many ones, who in the love have drowned, Donít hear the calls though numerous and loud. Of them the prate and rumours keep account. But this account is blended with the blood. Next to the bedhead candles will have glowed For perished ones from love unseen and mad. Their voices may conflow and sound as sole To roam in blooms is blessed for their souls To breathe eternity in joint action And to have met each other with a sigh On brittle bridges and ferriages haywire, On narrow road junctions of creation. For those who love Iíll lay meadows soft Let them sing in vigil and in sleep. I am breathing, therefore I love. Iím in love, and therefore I live.
© Eugeny Koshelev. Translation, 2008