Охватила голову и стою... - пер. М. Цветаевой
No matter of the peoples intrigues! -
I've captured head and am singing
At this dawn, late indeed.
Ah, the violent wave has risen me up
At its crest so high!
I'm singing you, that it is - alone thus,
As the moon in the skies!
That, as the raven, flying at the heart,
Has stuck the clouds through!
Hook-nosed - whose anger is fatal,
And fatal - is its favour!
That, above the red-scarlet Kremlin
Has spreaded its black night.
That with the force of luxury -
It holded my throat as with a bind.
Ah, I'm happy! Never the dawn burned
Clearer, than it was that day.
Ah, I'm happy! That, presenting you all,
I'm going away as a beggar.
That you - whose voice had - Oh, dark! Oh, dove! -
My breath hardly narrowed.
I, at first time, has named you so
As the Muse from Tsarskoye Selo.
22 June 1916
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