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

Know of the tender face so dear,
Still one more moment - what a tempest
Played here.

I struggled like a hero. Even
You and I once together dined!
A muted voice I do remember
And lips' outline.

And hair, fluffier than down,
And - the most dear! -
The gorgeous wrinkles of laughter
Your long eyes near.

And I recall - you sat right there,
I, here - but you do forget.
What effort all this cost to me,
What minutes yet -

To sit, giving off reams of smoke,
And to observe silence complete ...
It was intolerable to me
Like this to sit.

You do recall this conversation
Of weather and of letter "e."
Behold, you know, for such a strange dinner
There cannot be.

In a half-turn, in a half-darkness
I laugh, not waiting for myself:
"Eyes of a thoroughbred dog,
Count, Farewell."


-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --
Lost and without aim completely
I walked an alley dark as well
And, seemingly, there was no singing
Of the bell.


2
When he did live everyone loved him
Eternal loyalty did vow,
Carry the wreaths out of the lilies
Onto fresh snow.

Over his miserable lodgings
For a brief minute go slow