Mikhail Lermontov — Loneliness

It's Hell for us to draw the fetters

Of life in alienation, stiff.

All people prefer to share gladness,

And nobody - to share grief.

As a king of air, I'm lone here,

The pain lives in my heart, so grim,

And I can see that, to the fear

Of fate, years pass me by like dreams;

And comes again with, touched by gold,

The same dream, gloomy one and old.

I see a coffin, black and sole,

It waits: why to detain the world?

There will be not a sad reflection,

There will be (I am betting on)

Much more gaily celebration

When I am dead, than - born.