Translate to:
poet portal: Marina Tsvetaeva
read below: poem mountain

dearest, you wonder
the speech? All departing
talk like a drunken man and
happy to take the festive…
Holderlin*

DEDICATION

Shudder – and mountains with shoulder,
and soul – the mountain.
Let me sing of woe:
About my gope!

Black or this day, no further
Do not plug the holes.
Let me sing about gore
On top of the mountain.

I

That mountain was, as the breast
recruit, snaryadom svalennogo.
This mountain hotel wrinkles
virgin, wedding ceremony

Trebovala and mountain.
– The Ocean in the ear
Suddenly burst into cheers,!
This mountain and drove to war.

That mountain was, like thunder!
Vain flirt with the Titans!
That mountain last house
remember – the suburb?

That mountain was – worlds!
God of peace impose expensive!
Mount began with mountains.
That mountain was over the city.

II

not Parnassus, not Sinai –
Just the bare barracks
Hill. – Ravnyaysya! Shoot!
Why do my eyes
(Every October, but not May)
That mountain was – paradise?

III

At a glance filed
Paradise – do not touch, number burning!
Gore rushed pod legs
Koldobinami steeper.

How would paws titanium
Shrubs and coniferous –
Gore grabbed za floors,
I tell: стой!

ABOUT, It is not alphabetic
Paradise – drafts drafts!
Mountain valyl backwards us,
Prytyahyvala: lyah!

Flustered under pressure,
– how? Do not understand and this day!
forest, as a matchmaker – holiness,
specify: here…

IV

Persephone grain pomegranate!
How to forget you in the cold winter?
I remember lips, double sink
parted my.

Persephone, grain zahublennaya!
Scarlet lips obstinate,
And thine eyelids – chipping,
And the stars of the golden tooth…

V

not cheating – passion, and non-fiction,
And do not lie, – not only length!
About ever in this world were we
commoners love!

About when the b, healthy and poprostu:
Simply – Hill, simply – mound…
(they say – craving for gulf
Measured level mountains.)

The heaps of brown heather,
In the islands suffering hvoy…
(The height of delirium – above the level
Life.)
– NA is me! yours…

But the family quiet grace,
But chicks babble – Alas!
Because in this world were we –
inhabitants of heaven love!

Most read poems Tsvetaeva:


All poetry (content alphabetically)

Leave a Reply