Along the edge of the cliff, over precipice I hurry my horses, I rush them ahead I need more air, I drink wind and swallow fog With ominous delight, I feel Iím vanishing... Slow down, slow down a bit, my horses! Donít listen to the snaps of lash! But my horses are so capricious... I didnít finish living, I cannot finish the song. ...I will get them water, I will finish my song And will stay another moment on the edge. I will perish, and hurricane will blow me away, like a flake My sledge will dash ahead in the morning snow. Please ease your pace, my horses, Extend my journey to the last refuge. Slow down, slow down a bit, my horses! Let lash and knout not be your rulers! But my horses are so capricious... I didnít finish living, I cannot finish the song. ...I will get them water, I will finish my song And will stay another moment on the edge. We are on time - paying visit to God, no one is late. But what are those angels singing there, in such mean voices? Or is this the hardness bell, just crying and crying? Or is this me, yelling at my horses to slow them down? Slow down, slow down a bit, my horses! I beg you not to dart ahead! But my horses are so capricious... If I didnít finish living, can I at least finish the song? ...I will get them water, I will finish my song And will stay another moment on the edge!
© Anna Bochman. Translation, 2010