A poet can’t be in disfavour,
he needs no awards, no fame.
A star has no setting whatever,
no black nor a golden frame.

A star can’t be killed with a stone, or
award, or that kind of stuff.
He’ll bear the blow of a fawner
lamenting he’s not big enough.

What matters is music and fervour,
not fame, nor abuse, anyway.
World powers are out of favour
when poets turn them away.

© Copyright Alec Vagapov’s translation



Poems by Andrei Voznesensky

Andrei Voznesensky (Voznesenski, Voznesenskii, Voznesenskï, Wosnesenski, Woznesenski)