1
That place is not for old people. The young people
are embracing each other, and the birds
in the trees - those dying generations - are singing.
Falls of salmon, seas of mackerel,
Fish, meat and poultry praised all summer long
All that is raised, born and dies who.
They are all obsessed with all kinds of sensual music,
ignoring immortal reason and masterpieces.
2
An old man is nothing more than a humble object,
a rag on a cane,
unless His soul claps its hands and sings,
Singing for the tatters of the world's clothes;
There is no music school in the world that does not chant
his own A brilliant milestone work,
So I sailed across the vast oceans and seas,
and came to the holy city of Byzantium.
3
O saints standing in the holy fire of God,
As shown by the golden mosaics on the wall,
Please step out of the sacred fire, participate in the movement of the whirlpool, and become the mentor who teaches my soul to sing.
Destroy my heart, it is obsessed with six desires and seven emotions,
It is tied to a dying animal without knowing it!
Its own nature; I ask you to take me in
That eternal masterpiece of handicraft ③.
4
Once I have transcended nature, I will never again
take my form from any natural object,
but from ancient Greece Forged by the goldsmiths of the times,
Forged in gold and gilded in shape,
wake up the sleepy emperor;
or put me away Sing on the golden branches ④,
Sing about the past and future or the present,
Sing to the gentlemen and ladies of Byzantium.