Осип Эмильевич Мандельштам.
Перевод стихотворения Дано мне тело - что мне делать с ним на английский язык.

I’m Given a Body — What to Do with Thee

I’m given a body — what to do with thee,
So much unique, so much belong to me?

For the quiet happiness to breathe and live
My gratefulness — to whom it shall I give?

I’m a gardener and I’m a flower as well,
I’m not alone in th’ earthly prison cell.

And all my breath and warmth lay already
Down on the window glass of eternity.

The pattern that will be imprinted there
From recent times you will not find elsewhere.

The mud of th’ instant let be gone to waste,
The cherished pattern will be not erased.

It's So My Own and So Familiar. What Should

It's so my own and so familiar. What should
I do with this God-given flesh and blood?

For joys so quiet as to live and breathe,
Who will receive my gratitude for these?

I'm both the gardener and flower one,
In this world's dungeons I am not alone.

On the glass of the eternal one can see
The traces of my breath and of the warmth of me.

Henceforth it bears a pattern which is mine
Even to me unknown from recent times.

Let it be drained, the turmoil of the day —
The lovely pattern won't be crossed away.

I Have the Present of a Body – What Should I Do with It

I have the present of a body – what should I do with it
so unique it is and so much mine?

For the quiet joy of breathing and of being alive,
tell me, whom have I to thank?

I am the gardener and the flower,
in the dungeon of the world I am not alone.

On the glass of eternity has already settled
my breath, my warmth.

On it a pattern prints itself,
unrecognizable of late.

Let the lees of the moment trickle down –
the dear pattern is not to be wiped out.

Дано мне тело - что мне делать с ним

Дано мне тело - что мне делать с ним,
Таким единым и таким моим?

За радость тихую дышать и жить
Кого, скажите, мне благодарить?

Я и садовник, я же и цветок,
В темнице мира я не одинок.

На стекла вечности уже легло
Мое дыхание, мое тепло.

Запечатлеется на нем узор,
Неузнаваемый с недавних пор.

Пускай мгновения стекает муть
Узора милого не зачеркнуть.

Последние стихотворения