In the Winter…with poems

Marina Tsvetaeva (1892-1941) is one of the greatest Russian poets of all time. Along with Anna Akhmatova, Boris Pasternak and Osip Mandelstam, she was one of the four great poets who kept their humanity and integrity through Russia’s “terrible years.”

In the Winter

Behind the walls once again

Bells’ whining is heard.

Several streets between us,

And several words!

The city in darkness sleeps,

Silver sickle appears,

The falling snow scatters

Your collar with stars.

Do your wounds ail for a long time?

Do the calls wound of the past?

Teases the new, seductive,

And shining glance.

(Blue or brown?) It matters more than

Wise pages to the heart!

Rime turns to white the

Eyelashes’ darts…

Behind the walls, bell’s whining

Lacks strength, is barely heard.

Several streets between us,

And several words!

Clear crescent is leaning into

Books’ and poets’ souls,

Into your downy collar

In sheets is pouring snow.

Translated by Ilya Shambat


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