Clamor dies. Against a jamb reclining I step forth and stand upon the stage. From the distant voices I'm divining What will happen to me in this age. Agony and night are nailed together Through my heart by every gaping eye. If you only please, dear Holy Father, Would you let this chalice pass me by. Of your stubborn will I am in amour And this role I have agreed to play But today will be another drama And this time, please let me turn away. All arranged is action and the kingdom And the fate of everyone is sealed. I'm alone. All drowns in Phariseedom. To live life is not to cross a field. By Boris Pasternak Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat
