Persian Song by Sergei Yesenin

The cold gold of the levish  moon,

The scent of oleander and gillyflower.

It is good to wander among the comforts then

Of a blue and gentle country tune.

Far, far away  lays ansient  Baghdad,

Where Shahrazad lived and was singing,

But now alas and ah she needs nothing.

The long-ringing garden has rang  down.

The sad  ghosts of outlying fairly lands

Have grown over with green charnel grass.

But you, traveler, don’t  listen to the deceased,

Do not bow your head to the gloomy slabs.

Look around, how good it is all around:

Lips are drawn, drawn to roses tinny.

Make peace  in your heart with the enemy —.

And you will be saffroned with beatitude.

If to live — so live, if to love — so fall in that,

Kiss and walk softy  in the moon's gold,

But if you want to worship straight the dead,

Then do not poison the living with that dream-thought.

Even Scheherazade sang this sad  words

the copper of the leaves’ll say for the second time.

Those who need nix nothing, in the vain

Only surely can be pitied in the world.