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Aug. 22nd, 2003 01:34 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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greatpoetryfrom INSOMNIA
by Marina Tsvetayeva
(trans. Edward J. Brown, Willis Barnstone)
In my immense city it is night.
I walk from the house muffled tight
in sleep where they say daughter? wife?
but I remember one thing—the night.
Before me a sweeping July wind
and in some window a hint of song.
Tonight the wind will blow till dawn,
blow through my breasts. They are very thin.
A black poplar, and in the window
a lightbulb; chiming on the tower and
a flower in my hand. Shadow
and steps follow no one. There is no
me. Lights! like strings of gold beads.
The taste of a small nocturnal leaf.
Free me from the mouth of day. Friends, please,
try to understand: I am your dream.
by Marina Tsvetayeva
(trans. Edward J. Brown, Willis Barnstone)
In my immense city it is night.
I walk from the house muffled tight
in sleep where they say daughter? wife?
but I remember one thing—the night.
Before me a sweeping July wind
and in some window a hint of song.
Tonight the wind will blow till dawn,
blow through my breasts. They are very thin.
A black poplar, and in the window
a lightbulb; chiming on the tower and
a flower in my hand. Shadow
and steps follow no one. There is no
me. Lights! like strings of gold beads.
The taste of a small nocturnal leaf.
Free me from the mouth of day. Friends, please,
try to understand: I am your dream.
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no subject
Date: 2003-08-22 08:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-22 10:07 am (UTC)