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Imprecise Translator

М.Ю. Лермонтов - Дума

We have drown up the mind by shallow science
Consealed the hopes and precious intensions
With jealousy from nearest and valid
By misbelief of laughed up passions
A single gulp from golden bowl of pleasure
Drained out young strengths once and forever
From every joy we get without limits
The best juice and set nothing left
The dreams of poetry and the art creations
Do not bring pleasure to our mind at all
We keep with greed the rest of secret feelings
Within the chest to never let it out
We hate and love just by a case us leading
We give no gift to any of this feel
We feel only the dark chill buried in soul
Although blood our's boiling
And joys of ancestors for us are just too boring
As well as their nice debauchery
We're rushing to the grave without smile and glory
Just looking back with sign of regret smile
We'll pass the world and leave no trace behind us
Forgotten by sad and putiful crowd
We won't give to the world neigher a mind of value
Nor genius of the begun great work

I sadly look at present generation
Its future either empty or so dark
Meanwhile with burden of doubts and education
In nothingness it will grow old at last


We carry out from the very youth all
Mistakes of fathers and their corrupt mind
And we are tired of life like of the lonely road
Like feast on the unwelcome site


We nothing feel to kindness or to evil
And we give up not far from the begin
Like cowards acting in the face of danger
And slaves under the rulers treat


Like thin fetus which has grown up too early
We bring no joy to eyes or to the tongue
We hang between the flowers like the strangers
And when they shine it's time for us to fall


We have drown up the mind by shallow science
Consealed the hopes and precious intensions
With jealousy from nearest and valid
By misbelief of laughed up passions


A single gulp from golden bowl of pleasure
Drained out young strengths once and forever
From every joy we get without limits
The best juice and set nothing left


The dreams of poetry and the art creations
Do not bring pleasure to our mind at all
We keep with greed the rest of secret feelings
Within the chest to never let it out


We hate and love just by a case us leading
We give no gift to any of this feel
We feel only the dark chill buried in soul
Although blood our's boiling


And joys of ancestors for us are just too boring
As well as their nice debauchery
We're rushing to the grave without smile and glory
Just looking back with sign of regret smile


We'll pass the world and leave no trace behind us
Forgotten by sad and putiful crowd
We won't give to the world neigher a mind of value
Nor genius of the begun great work


And our ashes will be judged cold strictly
By the offsprings who will write mocky poem
Which will describe our promising wishes
That haven't been fulfilled at all


21.09.17


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