Өлсем орным қара жер сыз болма ма?

                 Когда умру, не стану ль я землей?

Is not the cold damp earth to enclose my clay when it dies?

Will not my fearless tongue become like a timid maid?

Will not my heart be frozen, turned into lifeless ice,

My heart, that fought against vice and the biddings of love obeyed?

Will not the final hour arrive for me just the same

As it must for all other people, with certainty, soon or late?

Will not my stern descendants notice them and condemn

The countless mistakes and errors that I so rashly made?

Yet I will not, alas, be able to make reply.

Though you are free to condemn, bear, I beg you, in mind

That 1 was harassed enough during my earthly life.

To punish me twice for the same offence would be indeed unkind.

Make an effort to understand;  to your sympathy I appeal.

It wasn’t really so simple, my torn and suffering soul.

My way through this arduous life was difficult, strewn with thorns.

I fought with the darkest of darkness, take account,

I beg, of it all.

Hot-tempered was I and one time a little bit feather­brained.

I used to practice deceit and was given to envy and spite.

Though later I grew more wise, yet to this day remain

Imperfect in many ways, barred by my faults from the light.

I wasn’t entirely free to seek the road to perfection,

Condemned to err by my foes—by those who had borne me hate.

They pestered and harassed me more than I should

like to mention.

May the Almighty God relieve you from such a fate!

To be buried leaving so much unfinished and unac­complished,

All I intended—undone; could ever a fate be worse?

But let me not give away all of my sorrowful secrets—

Nothing is so indiscreet, so apt to betray as verse.

Translated by Dorian Rottenberg