Sergei Yesenin

No, Never Have I Felt So Tired

No, never have I felt so tired, into this grey frost and mire The skies of Ryazan came before me, And my good-for-nothing life. I have been loved by many women, And more than one loved in return. Was it for this the dark power Schooled me in the ways of wine? O endless nights of drunkenness! And in debauch the old despair! Was it for this the eyes devour As a maggot devours a blue leaf? Unfaithfulness no longer hurts, The easy conquest brings no pleasure. And the gold hay of that hair Turns, slowly, into a grey flower. Turns into ash and water, When the autumn mud oozes black, I do not regret you, bygone years, I want to bring nothing back. I'm so tired of this pointless pain; A strange smile on my face I love to bear, in a light frame, The calm light and the dead man's peace. It isn't even tedious now To drag myself from bar to bar. Just as in a concrete jacket Man has padlocked Nature, So, the wild fire dies within me, now, Dictated by the self-same laws. Yet still respectfully I bow To those home fields I used to love. And to that country where I grew Beneath the maples, and played on the yellow grass I send a greeting to the crows And sparrows and night-sobbing owls. Into the distances of Spring I call - 'Into the trembling sky, Dear birds, broadcast the news: My scandalling is done. And let the wind begin Beneath the sun to tan the rye.'

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