"Marina Tsvetaeva. The Best (translated by Ilya Shambat) (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора And I was born.
Hundreds of belltowers Argued at least. It was the Saturday: John the Baptist. And in my teeth now I want to crush The hot ashberry's Bitter brush. From Cycle "Insomnia" 1 In a shady ring my eyes She surrounded - insomnia. With a shady wreath insomnia Did my eyes bind. At night - the same! Idol-worshipper - I'll give Your secret away. To you - day's not enough, Fire of sun above! You pale-faced one, wear My rings' pair! You screamed - and proclaimed The wreath of shade. Enough - did you - call me? Enough - did you - sleep with me? People bow to you. Light in face you'll lie. I'll be reader to you, I, insomnia: Sleep, soothed, Sleep, rewarded one, Sleep, wreathed, Woman. |
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