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Blok, "В те дни, когда душа трепещет"

A work ("And on those days when my soul shakes") by this Russian poet.  You can read the original here.

And on those days when my soul shakes 
From surfeits of this life's concerns, 
In far-off spheres shall shine one shape
Your distant palace, sunset-burned. 

And with a shaking soul I strive,
To rest from life's wild squall and rain; 
Yet happiness like this can't thrive, 
So hard's your palace path to gain. 

Thence comes a cold, illuming gleam,
A golden dome so radiant; 
With access but for souls still free,
Undarken'd by vainglorious bent.

A spark that blinds but nothing more,
An unaccustomed sight and sheen;
And struck by suffering full-bore,
My wounded soul shall then retreat.

This soul shall live, this soul shall see
You waft across a distant grass;
If but more to despise and flee
The world and all its loathsome paths.

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