My heart is in a gloom. Be fast, Oh bard, be fast! <br /> There is a harp of gold: <br />And let your fingers, that on strings are cast, <br /> Wake sounds of the God's Abode. <br />And if a cruel fate kills hopes not at once, <br /> They'll wake up in my poor soul, <br />And if a drop of tears is, else, in my iced eyes - <br /> Tears will be melted and will flow. <br />And let your song be grim and wild. Like my wreath, hard, <br /> I hate the sounds of mad gladness! <br />I say to you: I crave for tears, Oh bard, <br /> Or heart will perish from the sadness. <br />It was attended with some pain before, <br /> Was, for a long time, pining, lonesome; <br />The strike of fate had come - it's now full, therefore, <br /> As a deathly cup is full with poison.<br /><br />Mikhail Lermontov<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/jewish-melody/
