adamnet | Із життя

All flows and all passes – this goes on forever...

Yet where does it vanish? And whence did it come?

The fool does not know, and the sage knows no better.

There's life... then there's death... As here blossoms a one,

Another there withers beyond a returning...

Its yellow leaves fall, to be green never more.

But still the bright sun will come up in the morning,

At nightfall the stars will come out as before

To swim in the heavens, and then, gentle sister,

You too, silver moon, will come out for a stroll,

You'll glance as you pass into puddles and cisterns,

And sparkle the oceans – you'll shine as of old

You shone over Babylon's fabulous gardens,

And as ages from now you will still be regarding

What haps to our children. Forever you'll glow!

I tell you my notions, my heart I unburden,

And sing you the muses inspire by yourself.

Oh, what shall I do with my onerous burden?

Advise me, for I am not just by myself,

I've children: what am I to do with my offspring?

To bury them with me? That would be a crime -

The soul is alive. Its ordeal may be softened

If someone will read these word-teardrops of mine,

The tears that were shed in the night, in seclusion,

The tears that were poured from the heart in profusion.

I'll not have them buried, for they are alive!

And as the blue sky overhead has no limit,

There's also no start and no end to the spirit.

And where does the soul stay? Those words are but guile!!

May it on some heart here on earth leave an imprint -

Because it is hard unremembered to die.

Oh girls, to remember you first are obliged!

For it always loved you, my roses, sincerely,

And tenderly strove your sad lot to describe.

So rest ye in peace until daybreak, my children,

The while I consider who should be your guide.

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