Pilgrims – Joseph Brodsky

Past the lists, temple,
past temples and bars,
past chic cemeteries,
past the big bazaars,
peace and sorrow by,
past Mecca and Rome,
the blue sun of the palima,
pilgrims walk the land.
They are crippled, humpbacks,
hungry, half-dressed,
their eyes are full of sunset,
their hearts are full of dawn.
The deserts sing behind them,
lightning flashes,
stars burn above them,
and the birds scream them hoarsely:
that the world will remain the same,
Yes, will remain the same,
blindingly snowy,
and doubtfully gentle,
the world will remain a lie,
the world will stay forever,
may be, comprehensible,
but still endless.
AND, so, there will be no sense
from faith in yourself and in God.
…AND, so, only
illusion and road.
And be above the earth to sunsets,
and be above the ground for the sunrises.
Fertilize her soldiers.
Approve her to the poets.

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Mikhail Lermontov