"Marina Tsvetaeva. The Best (translated by Ilya Shambat) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

Truth


The exhausted world sighs of confusion,
The pink even streams oblivion...
We were parted by shadows, not people,
Oh my dearest boy, heart of mine!


-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Walls are towering, in a fog dressing,
Spear was dropped without strength by the sun..
In the evening world I'm cold. Where are you,
Oh my dearest boy, heart of mine?


-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
You will not hear. The walls are encroaching,
All things blend into one, all dies down...
Nothing did, does, will substitute for you,
Oh my dearest boy, heart of mine!




Another Prayer


Once again I am bending my knees before you,
Having noticed your garland of stars far apace.
Let me know, dear Christ, that not all things are ghosts,
Allow me, at last, not a ghost to embrace!

I am tormented by these long days. With no worry,
With no aim, in half-darkness, I am so lost..
I can love ghosts, but can one survive on this planet
For eighteen years solely on ghosts?

And they sing, and they write, joy is in the beginning!
Blossom with your full jubilant soul!
Isn't it true, there's no happiness without sorrow?
I don't have any friends save the dead, none at all.

Those enflamed with another belief for all time, is it so,
From the world in empty desert had hid?
No, I don't need the smiles gained at the cost
Of profaning the highest shrines of my creed.