Bound a trouble by Emily Dickinson

Горе умеришь - вынесут сроки!
Кровоточения глубь - уйми!
Сколько же капель - гибельно-алых...
С духом как с алгеброй справься, займись!

Выскажи срокам - ноликам тайным:
Выболит боль, вмещена пустым...
Выпой - как труженик всякий, умаясь,
Солнцу в закат прорубая кусты!





[The poem tells us ways of dealing with trouble.
We can deal with it mathematically, by putting
a boundary or limit around it as in geometry
and realising that it is not the whole of life,
or by counting the drops of blood as in Algebra
and saying to the trouble that it is only likely
to last another 14 days. Or it will diminish if
we sing at its pain, as a Workman sings as
the end of his working day approaches.]

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Bound -- a trouble by Emily Dickinson

Bound -- a trouble -- And lives can bear it! 
Limit -- how deep a bleeding go!            
So -- many -- drops -- of vital scarlet --
Deal with the soul - As with Algebra!

Tell it the Ages -- to a cypher --
And it will ache -- contented -- on --
Sing -- at its pain -- as any Workman --
Notching the fall of the Even Sun!