Andrei Beliy

I am submerged within the whistling
Of time's streams, my black cloak tearing.
I call the people, seek the prophets
That secrets of the heavens sing.

I walk ahead with speedy gait,
And here - the rock, and you stand here
A mage in garland of the stars,
And with a wise smile you do peer.

At feet of centuries a roaring
Riding, raging in timeless dream.
And your voice, like an eagle's croaking,
In chilly heights is growing    

In fiery garland over the kindgom
The laments over time do sing
The frozen mage, arms having folded,
The prophet of the timeless spring.