Я памятник себе воздвиг нерукотворный... [Ya pamyatnik sebe vozdvig nerukotvornyi...] [English translation]

Exegi monumentum

I’ve built myself a monument, a one not man-made

And people’s path will never grass to it

It soared up higher with its head rebellious

Than Alexandrian Stele

No, never will I die in full - the soul in sacred

Lyre will ashes mine survive and decay will escape

And famous will I be until below the moon yet

There lives at least one poet left.

A word ‘bout me will spread all over great Rus’

And any tongue will voice my name in it

A proud Slavic son, a Finn, a yet so wild Tungus

And steppe wise old Kalmyk

And long on after that will I be dear to people

For only kindly feelings did my lyre bring on

For in these cruel times I praised and sang of Freedom

And called for mercy to the fallen

Oh, Muse, to God’s good will, please, be submissive;

With no crown claim and being insult proof

Accept your praise or libel with indifference

And never reason with a fool