"Marina Tsvetaeva. The Best (translated by Ilya Shambat) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора Both day and night, in word and letter both:
For truth of yes and no, For that though I am but twenty I am So often in such sorrow, For unavoidably my slights and trespasses Will be forgiven me - For all of my impetuous tenderness And look too proud and free - For quickness of events as they come rushing, For truth, for play, say I - Please hear me! But do also please love me For this that I will die. x x x Thus to thirst life: And to be tender And rabid and noisy, To be intelligent and charming - Gorgeous to be! More tender than what are or have been, Guilt not to know... This, that in graveyard all are equal, Angers me so. To be what nobody holds dear - Like ice become! Not knowing what has come before now Nor what will come, To forget how the heart broke and Grew back together, To forget both the words and voice And shine of hair. Bracelet of ancient turquoise On the stem, on This my white arm Narrow and long... Like painting over a cloud From afar, One took the mother-of-pearl pen In one's arm, |
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