I erected a monument.
I set up an artificial monument for myself,
People don't grow grass on their way.
He held his unyielding head high,
Above the Alexander column.
No, I won't die completely-my heart is on Jane.
In the harp of love
Longer than a bone, never decays—
As long as there is a poet in the moonlight,
My reputation will last forever.
I will be famous in the great land of Russia,
All the living nations will praise me as a poetic soul.
Whether it's the proud offspring of Finnish Mrs. Jones,
The uncivilized Tungusic people are also friends of the grassland.
The people of kalmyk.
I will be loved by the people from generation to generation,
Because I used to awaken people's kind hearts with the harp,
When I am in trouble, I praise freedom.
I pray that people will sympathize with those who have fallen.
Oh, Muse, listen to God's will,
Not afraid of being bullied, you don't have to be crowned.
Treat praise and criticism coldly,
You don't have to argue with stupid people.