Translation of “На улице—дождик и слякоть” by Aleksandr Blok
The streets run like rivers with sleet
and you’ve run out of things to lament.
You’re so bored that you think you might weep—
at least then your slight strength would be spent.
In the deafening silence of sorrow
the mind frenzies like a blood-hungry shark.
So come on, let’s climb out of this furrow,
and heat up the old bronze samovar!
Perhaps with caffeine in our bloodstream,
my kvetching extemporizations
will in your languid eyes kindle a gleam
in an ambush of exuberation.
A toast to the old days, the good days!
A toast to meandering through life!
May a strong cup of tea wash away
all ennui, melancholy, and strife!