перевод стихотворения Марины Цветаевой

Dear friend who’s sailed further then over sea
Lay on the rose I’ve, brought to you, 
Dear friend who’s taken more than part  of me:
Dearest  treasure I ever knew.

I call the rain, I call the rain –
You will not return and come back again,
Only the rose is in my vase
Without a water several days.

I call the rain, I call the rain,
But feel the death’s tremor again and again 
Withered rose’s still in the vase
……… several days.   

I’ve been rob and my soul in poverty,
And no letter, no ring has been left;
I remember your smallest cavity
Of your face, as surprise it kept.


I remember your asking and staring way,
Way of the glance that  ask  me to sit;
And your smile from the greatest faraway –
Flattery’s words my sorrow‘s   been lit.


Dear friend who’s sailing up lies
Yesterday’s hill among other one more
Pray for me in the harbor of paradise
Not to have other lightships anymore!