1
You will be innocent, gorgeous,
Refined - and to all alien.
A striving, aspiring mistress,
An enticing Amazon.
Your braids of hair, most likely,
To wear like a helmet you'll choose,
You will be the queen of the ballroom -
Of all the poems of our youth.
And your vicious blade of humor
Will pierce through many, queen,
And you will have at your feet
All of which I can but dream.
All will be obedient to you,
And all before you will be quiet.
Like me, you will indisputably
And better poems write.
But will you press tight and deadly
Those temples of yours - who knows -
Just like your young mother
Is pressing her temples now.
2
Yes, I am jealous of you
With such a jealousy!
Yes, I also disturb you
With my angst already.
And this my miserable nature
In you is most awfully clear:
In your without two months two years -
You're in despair.
All dolls in whole wide world, all horses
You'll give without a second thought
For one page from my notebook
And pencil I brought.
You're in a fight with maids - you want
To do all things alone.
Then suddenly you're in despair:
"The sea's gone home."
However proudly I speak of you,
I can't transmit you all about
When you are asking me,
"Mother, Please kiss my snout."
You know, all in me is laughing
When somebody once again
Attempts to kiss you
In vain.
I am the snake that took the princess,
A dragon! Groom of grooms! O light
Of my eyes - O the jealousy
Of my night!
By Marina Tsvetayeva
Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat
https://sites.google.com/site/ibshambat
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