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

And boldly went tucking in
The hollow of fur on her.

World is happy, and evening is bold!
From the muff purchases fly...
Thus you rushed in a snowstorm,
Coat to coat, eye to eye.

And cruelest mutiny happened,
And white snow did pour.
I followed you with my eyes
For two seconds - and no more.

And caressed the longish nap
Upon his coat - without wrath.
O Snow Queen! Your little Kai
Is frozen to death.


6
Just like a young plant sprout
The neck is high and free.
Who'll tell the name, who - years,
Who - place, who - century?

The curve of not bright lips
Is capricious and wan,
But blinding is the terraced
Forehead of Beethoven.

Clean to endearment
Is the molten oval.
A hand, in which a whip would do,
And - in the silver - opal.

Hand, meriting a fiddlestick,
Gone into precious silk,
A beautiful hand also,
A hand that is unique.


7
You on your road pass me by,
And your hand do not touch I.
But my angst is eternal yet,
That you be the first I met.

Heart said "Dear!" at once
I forgave you all by chance,
Knowing nothing - not even the name!