Of my hand I did not vzygryval,
On my chest I am not vsplakival…
An immutable and eternal
inverted flare:

The soul in my izglavii,
Over my suffering at the foot
(Of my hand I did not flinched, –
Not your hand deposed)

Azrail! At night, with no month
And without the stars are beveled road.
At this hour, the heavy-weighing
I will not be a burden…

Azrail? The nights without leaving
And without stars: antics foiled!
At this hour, hard-breathable
I will not be burst…

And then the finger like a torch
Write in the dawn grayness
About women, I called you
Azrael instead – Eros.

17 February 1923

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Marina Tsvetaeva
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