In a nasty time

Translated by Q.R. Quasar (USA)
(оригинал - стихотворение "Ненастною порой")

In a nasty time in a gloomy landscape,
when trees cried, their branches breaking from snow,
I dreamt Your image--could barely make it out--
was like an icon in a windowpane.

Daylight passed so fast that night was always falling.
And hoarfrost moved slowly like mold on ground.
Shadows  battered the poor world fiercely,
without thought, to commit it to frigid darkness.

I had forgotten that You were near me
until some fear woke me from my dream...
I floated amidst chimeras, my lackluster eyes wandering
and frost but for a moment
                made me lucid again.

Some ancient ancestor was dying in me
and we were the same body--as were You.
I seemed to be a leaf at stripped branch's tip,
thrashing about to bid the branch goodbye.

Hoping that rays of the impotent celestial body,
swaddled by darkness for a time now,
would light up the Earth, I recalled pictures
of the last bright days from my silent memory.

I dreamt:  that summer was yet around me,
the summer of July's early mornings and August's storms;
the heavens wielded the power to compose
matter's nonexistence into a poem
                and guided it to being.