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ÎÄѧ×÷Æ·ººÒ룺Mikhaii Lermontov--Clouds
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Clouds
Mikhaii Lermontov
Clouds in the sky up there , pearly-roped necklaces,
Over the azure steppes, rovers eternally,
Exiles like I you go galloping recklessly
Far from our Northern home, Southward your journeying.
What is it drives you? The fell hand of destiny?
Open hostility? Ploys of the envious?
Crimes hanging over you? Violence or enmity?
Or good friends calumnies, soft-voiced and venomous?
None of these things. All alike insignificant
Are passion and pain and poor pastures fast vanishing...
Free both to come and go, free and indifferent,
You know not the meaning of home—or of banishment.
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