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

Than this one you first met - say I -
Than mother-of-the-pearl mud puddles
Where in full pleasure splashed the sky,

Than bird that overhead is flying
And dog that's simply running by
And even the impoverished singer
Did not begin to make me cry.

The dear art of oblivion
The soul has mastered all the way.
Some overwhelmingly big feeling
Melted within my soul today.


4
You were too lazy to get dressed,
Too lazy to get up for me.
And every following day for you
Would have been happy with my glee.

To come so late on a cold night
Embarrassed you especially.
And every following hour for you
Would have been young with this my glee.

I was the youth that passed you by -
You did this without ill intent,
Your actions were in every way
Incorrigible, innocent.


5
Today, around eight, dashing through
Big Lubanka straight ahead,
Like bullet, like snowball,
Somewhere rushed the sled.

Already the laughter rang...
I froze as I peered:
Red down of the hair
And somebody tall was near!

We were with another, and opened
Another sled route entire,
With wished-for and dear to me -
More strongly, than I - desired.

"O, je n'en puis plus, j'etouffe!" -
You screamed in full voice of yours,