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@Fahime
@noaspls
May god bless you both , thank you
Nadira
May Allah bless his soul. Ameen.
Oh my Gosh :-( I'm too sorry dear Nadira. God bless his soul.
@Lynn
Bless you for your kind words
God bless.
@Camelia
@Rosenmaiden
@AnnBless you all for your kind words
Yevgeny Yevtushenko, Russian poet of Soviet Age
Translated by Alec Vagapov
HUMAN BEINGS
To S. Preobrazhensky
All humans are noteworthy. Their lives
Resemble those of planets in the skies.
Each is specific and unique indeed,
No planet is identical to it.
If someone lived an unobtrusive life,
And unobtrusiveness was in his line,
People took interest in him because
Such an uninteresting man he was.
Each human has his own inmost world
With the happiest moment to be recalled,
With the most frightful moment to shake off;
But those are things that we know nothing of.
And when a person draws his final breath
Everything goes the way of all the earth
For with the death he takes along with him
First snow, first kiss, first battle — everything.
It’s true that bridges, paintings, books, machines
Remain, along with other things,
It’s true that many things are here to stay,
But something is to perish anyway.
Such is the rule of game, in other words,
It’s people that decease, not their worlds.
We have remembrances of people, well, then
What did we actually know about them?
What do we know of our brothers, friends,
Of our only one, whom heaven sends?
And, knowing our own father on the whole,
We don’t know anything about him at all.
Thus people pass away, and they will not return.
Their inmost worlds will never be reborn.
And every time my heart just screams
About this irretrievable course of things.
May God bless him!
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Comments
@Fahime
@noaspls
May god bless you both , thank you
Nadira
May Allah bless his soul. Ameen.
Oh my Gosh :-( I'm too sorry dear Nadira. God bless his soul.
@Lynn
Bless you for your kind words
God bless.
@Camelia
@Rosenmaiden
@Ann
Bless you all for your kind words
Yevgeny Yevtushenko, Russian poet of Soviet Age
Translated by Alec Vagapov
HUMAN BEINGS
To S. Preobrazhensky
All humans are noteworthy. Their lives
Resemble those of planets in the skies.
Each is specific and unique indeed,
No planet is identical to it.
If someone lived an unobtrusive life,
And unobtrusiveness was in his line,
People took interest in him because
Such an uninteresting man he was.
Each human has his own inmost world
With the happiest moment to be recalled,
With the most frightful moment to shake off;
But those are things that we know nothing of.
And when a person draws his final breath
Everything goes the way of all the earth
For with the death he takes along with him
First snow, first kiss, first battle — everything.
It’s true that bridges, paintings, books, machines
Remain, along with other things,
It’s true that many things are here to stay,
But something is to perish anyway.
Such is the rule of game, in other words,
It’s people that decease, not their worlds.
We have remembrances of people, well, then
What did we actually know about them?
What do we know of our brothers, friends,
Of our only one, whom heaven sends?
And, knowing our own father on the whole,
We don’t know anything about him at all.
Thus people pass away, and they will not return.
Their inmost worlds will never be reborn.
And every time my heart just screams
About this irretrievable course of things.
May God bless him!