Are you rich like the farmer who sowed
in hope? Like him, the seed you scattered
and you too cherished golden dreams that showed
you rich rewards far in the future...
Now you behold that day; greet it with pride
and count your painful acquisitions!
Alas, your passions, your dreams, your arduous road
are buried in scorn, and your condition
is the soul's irresistible disgrace,
the sting of disappointment on your face!
Excerto do poema Autumn
in Chapter II - Around Pushkin
The Penguin Book of Russian Poetry - edited by Robert Chandler,
Boris Dralyuk and Irina Mashinski