Mikhail Svetlov's 1962 poem about loss, grief and the nearness of death

Doing no harm to anyone, I lived and lived in the middle of the century, and trust came to me, the first friend of man.

How many losses I have endured,
How much my lips have kept silent!
Now grief too has knocked at the door,
And I welcomed it as warmly as I could.

Somewhere close is my last hour,
Beyond the wall it taps with its heels...
I shall vanish, embracing you
With hands growing cold.

Into eternity my face will float,
Looking at nothing, at no one,
And a child, stepping out onto the porch,
Will smile: "Goodbye, uncle!"

Literal translation

Mikhail Svetlov, 1962