Who in the winter morning, when fells
Fluffy snow and red dawn
Looks at the gray steppe with trembling,
Heard the bells of the monastery?
In the fight against the gusty wind, this ringing
Far in the sky brought them, –
And travelers liked him more than once,
As the message of death or the voice of immortality.
And I love this ringing! - He's a flower
Grave mound, mausoleum,
That won't change; no rock,
No small misfortunes of people
It will not be drowned out; always alone,
High tower grim lord,
He announces everything to the world, but alone -
Himself alien to everything, earth and heaven.