Перевод стихотворения А. С. Пушкина "Из Пиндемонти" на английский язык. *

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Too highly I do not esteem
The loud rights from which many a head spin.
I do not grumble that the Fates
Denied me the sweet lot of challenging tax rates
Or of preventing kings from fighting one another;
And honestly I little bother,
Whether press humbugs simpletons without limitations,   
Or censorship restrains buffoons in publishing intentions.          
All this is words, words, words, as thou see.
Some other better rights are precious to me;
Some other better freedom I require: 
Depending on the mob, depending on the Sire - 
Is it not all the same? God be with them. 
                                    To be obliged
To give account to no one, to serve and to indulge
Thyself alone; for power, for rank                                                   
To crook neither thy conscience, nor thoughts, nor trunk;             
At will to ramble far and wide,                        
Being carried away with nature's divine sight,        
And to regard pieces of art and inspiration                   
Quivering joyfully with a rapturous sensation. 
    - Here is happiness! here are the rights...