I have built, though not in stone, a monument to myself;
the pathe that leads to it will not be overgrown;
indomitably, the summit of my monument rises
higher than Alexandre's Column.
Not all of me shall die - for in my sacred lyre
my soul shall outlive my dust, it shall escape decay -
in the sublunary world my fame shall be un rending
as long as a single poet holds sway.
And word of me shall spread through all the Russian lands,
my name shall be pronounced in all its living tongues,
by proud Slav race and Finn, by Kalmyk on the steppe,
and by the far-flung tribe of Tungus.
Long will there be a place for me in people's hearts,
because in my harsh age I sang of Liberty,
because my lyre awoke warm-hearted sentiments
and asked, for the fallen, Charity.
Excerpt from Exegi Monumentum
Robert Chandler (1837)
in Chapter III - Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837)
The Penguin Book of Russian Poetry - edited by Robert Chandler,
Boris Dralyuk and Irina Mashinsk