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In Paris

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Subject: In Paris
From: ibsham...@gmail.com (Ilya Shambat)
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by: Ilya Shambat - Sat, 2 Apr 2022 21:46 UTC

Homes reach the stars, the sky's below,
The land in smoke to it is near.
Inside the big and happy Paris
Remains the secretive despair.

The evening boulevards are noisy,
Gone are the sundown's final rays,
And there are couples everywhere
Trembling of lips, daring of eyes.

I'm here alone. To trunk of chestnut
It is so nice one's head to lean!
And like in the abandoned Moscow
In heart weep verses of Rostand.

Paris at night is sad and alien,
Dear to the heart is madness gone!
I'm going home, there's vial of sorrow
And tender portrait of someone.

There's someone's glance, sad and fraternal.
There's tender profile on the wall.
Rostand and the Reichstadtian martyr
And Sara - in sleep come they all!

Within the big and happy Paris
I dream of grass, of clouds and rain
And laughter far, and shadow near,
And deep just like before is pain.

By Marina Tsvetayeva
Translated by Ilya Shambat
https://sites.google.com/site/ibshambat

You must dine in our cafeteria. You can eat dirt cheap there!!!!

arts / rec.arts.books / In Paris

arts / rec.arts.books / In Paris