to Evgeny Ivanov
When, entering the world enormous, 
You vainly search the state of unity; 
When you are looking in a dark corner
And waiting death out of it; 
When you are spiteful, or got illness, 
Are scorched by craving or by passion, 
Believe: that time you have the freedom
To be proud of real happiness! 
But when not boredom, nor love, neither
With a total fear you are breathing, 
When all your dreams are spotted, covered
With blood, not young and not so quick, - then
You are completely robbed and naked: 
Death is outside the languor power, 
And your life, out of the perishing, 
Thus - only the steps slows down.
March 1909                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem