Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | November 23, 2009

POEM OF THE DAY: The Cup of Life

by Mikhail Lermontov (1814 – 1841).

The Cup of Life

We drink life’s cup with thirsty lips,
Our eyes shut fast to fears;
About the golden rim there drips
Our staining blood, our tears.

But when the last swift hour comes on,
The light long hid is lit,
From startled eyes the band is gone,
We suffer and submit.

It is not our part to possess
The cup that golden gleaned.
We see its shallow emptiness:
We did not drink—we dreamed.

(transl. by Babette Deutsch & Avrahm Yarmolinsky)


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