"Это просто меланхолия сжала грудь..."

            陽
Flickering voices,
They are dancing faintly on the edge.
Empty of choices,
I am mute at the center of the cage.
An aristocrat's honor,
Shatters in a shower of strands,
Each is ice woven,
Each retains the touch of Moirae's hands.

My fate, my harmony, my core, my heart, my logos,
These threads which bind me and yet send me tow'rds the skies,
But how envy I your power, Athropos!
            陰
Now a trembling note,
Pierces darkness in a searing flash.
Face appears remote,
But the nails dig deep into the flesh.
With each sob I am dying,
In each tear I am born anew,
Yet the chains of Alaya,
Bind me so painfully to you.

Your sadness and your mirth, your frenzy and your calmness,
These are the cause and the effect entwined. They burn.
They fuse. Decay. And thus infer the birth of karma.
            美
Our roles erode,
Yet we play them out with the masks pristine,
Though the dice are all loaded,
And will go off in the final scene.
My Inferno is screeching,
Purgatory rises past the bridge,
Yet without Beatrice,
Heaven is forev'r beyond my reach.

For men the purity of honor colden-hearted,
For women passions purifying. And for us:
"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate!"