Nikolay Gumilev — Pre-Memory

So this is all of life! Whirling, singing.

Oceans, metropolises, deserts,

A desultory reflection

Of what is lost forever.

A flame rages, trumpets trumpet,

And chesnut-colored horses race,

Then the agitating lips

Of happiness, it seems repeat.

And sorrow and joy, now again,

Again, as before, as always,

The ocean gestures a gray mane,

Deserts, cities arise.

But when, at last, arising

From sleep, will I again be me —

Just a simple Indian, dozing

On a hallowed evening, by a stream?