"Marina Tsvetaeva. The Best (translated by Ilya Shambat) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора You did not have the time to read, too soon,
About the times, when solely in your honor Arose and down went the moon. I think about a hall in semi-darkness, About the velvet, into lace inclined, About the poems we would have told each other, You - yours, I - mine. I also think about the remaining From your lips and your eyes handful of dust.. About all eyes, that are now in the graveyard About them and us. x x x How many people fell in this abyss, I fathom from afar! There will be time, and I will vanish too From earth's exterior. That glistened and rejoiced: The greenness of my eyes, the gold of my hair, And this my tender voice. Life will continue with its soft hot bread, With day's oblivion. All will continue - under outstretched heavens As if I'd never been! Like children changeable in every mien And angry not for long, Who loved the times when in the fireplace Into ash turned the log, Violin and cavalcade within the forest And in the village, bell... Upon this dear earth - I will be no longer That was alive and real! To all - who are the friends and strangers To never having known the measure, me? I turn to you with this my faith's demand And love's query. |
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