Александр Цеханович – The Creator of Worlds / Создатель миров (английская версия) (страница 5)
I am the choking chlorine,
I am a deaf-mute choir,
I’m Mister Nonsense (esquire)!
«Why are you so proud…»
Why are you so proud
That you know me personally?
One girl says I am mentally ill.
(obviously)
That I am a harlequin
(somewhere in the court),
a talentless buffoon,
and no young lady of
royal blood will be mine,
even if I become a brave pirate
of the seven seas of literature.
It’s not enough for the heart and hand
Of a daughter of goddesses and kings.
I was just a child in a working-class family,
proletarian, dysfunctional, and poor.
I worked days and nights in a row,
Believing I would find my luck (“bro”),
But I fell under the ice hundreds of times,
Yet kept faith in you,
Against people and grumbling destiny.
Pushing off the bottom with my strong shoulder,
Clearing the path through thorns with a sword,
Relentlessly moving forward,
So the whole year flew by,
But I didn’t even notice, oh my God,
How many poems were dedicated to you?
How many miraculous odes?
As before, your fortress stands,
The fort I besieged does not surrender.
People are just laughing now.
But I am sad.
«Hurry and see…»
Hurry and see —
I’m crucified on a sheet!
Listen to what people are saying.
Let them all poke their fingers —
It flows like a river, bile, and poison!
Listen, Mom – it’s true:
I am hopeless! I am mediocre!
For the welfare of the country —
A deadly danger!
Believe me, ok?
I am your burden,
Not a treat at all!
I’m perverted by the influence
Of damned de Sade!
Never in the Garden of Eden
Can I find my home!
My place in Charenton!
Deal with my madness
With a saving euthanasia syringe —
Let the blood flow
From my burning eye sockets!
«It will be a moment…»
It will be a moment
When we will wipe away the tears,
Washing out dreams
From our crying faces.
We will cancel all dotted lines
Of all possible borderlines.
This is how they come true: 
