This too will pass, but first it will pierce
right to the marrow of the spine.
Between the first forgive me and the last
this will not take a lot of time.

After us, unforgiving, they too will play this,
to forget us, to nourish the urge,
while mistaking the tune you and I came up with
for a march, for a funeral dirge.

Dennis Novikov, translated by Philip Nikolayev