Warrior s Grave Лермонтов - Могила Бойца

From long ago last sleep he dream
In the Beyond unbounded
The mound was reared over him
By withered weed surrounded.

The curls of elderman are grey
With sapless glebe were blended
They touched his shoulders, fell and waved
Till revel bowl is faded.

They are as white as ocean's froth
That washes the cliffs in soreness.
The lips, the favourites of long talks,
First time are chained with coldness.

And cheeks are pallid of the gone
Like faces of that fellows
When he appeared all alone
Among the rows of theirs.

Soaked mould has covered chest like plate
But burden isn't heavy
And worm is fearless to wade
Across the brow it's heading.

The aim he lived for, drew the sword,
Is that in time of gloaming
The desert eagles gathered horde,
Right over mound were roaming?

Though heartful bard of native forest
Has sung too much 'bout Knight he's seen,
But song is song, and life is honest!
From long ago he dreams last sleep.