You will not grow dark in the darkness of centuries

So, comrade inspired,

And you! - and I am holy

No tears shed:

With a habit of grief and suffering

All dried up in the patient’s chest.

But your image to my dreams

In the sleepless nights to be

But I'm fed up with grief

But gloomy, near my wife, dear to me,

And forgot to think about love ...

/ There / thoughts, over your grave!

Silent rustle of harmonious wings

Your magical chants

Your genius flew into heaven;

And the squeals of yellow slander

Fools who have done so,

How were you alive, your traits

And now, in the hour of holy sorrow,

Soulless, do not shut up!

Be proud! By God, shame and shame

Their vile love! - Let them sting!

He is empty and rotten, whom everyone praises;

For envy, I will give dearly.

Be proud! No one is equal to you

None of their peers:

You will not grow dark in the darkness of centuries -

For centuries Derzhavin has been slandering you.

Wilhelm Küchelbecker - Shadows of Pushkin