# To a poet

Эмиль Шарафутдинов

из Пушкина

Перевод стихотворения Пушкина "Поэту"


To a poet

(sonnet)


Poet! do not prize highly public love.

Exalted praises' fleeting noise comes to an end;

You'll hear the fool's verdict and the crowd's laugh:

But you, stay sullen, calm and self-contained.


You are a king: live singly. By free ways

Go, wherever your free mind is yearning,

Perfecting the results of learning

And for a noble deed demanding no praise.


It is in you alone. You are your highest law;

Stricter than anyone you can appraise your score.

Are you content with it, exigent master?


Content? Well, let the crowd curse it then and spit

On the altar where your fire is lit

And shake your easel in its childish fluster.