I Eat Poetry

Fifteen Boys

Fifteen boys and, maybe, more,
or fewer than fifteen, maybe,
said to me
in frightened voices:
"Let's go to a movie or the Museum of Fine Arts."
I answered them more or less like this:
"I haven't time."
Fifteen boys presented me with snowdrops.
Fifteen boys in broken voices
said to me:
"I'll never stop loving you."
I answered them more or less like this:
"We'll see."

Fifteen boys are now living a quiet life.
They have done their heavy chores
of snowdrops, despair and writing letters.
Girls love them--
some more beautiful than me,

( others less beautiful )

~Bella Akhmadulina, trans. George Reavey