her words

– “your words are pouring, participation warmed,
But the dark eyes in a bygone”.
– “Doesn't it, nice, so looking portraits,
Offend white wing?”
– “thy words – jet, boil and pour,
But soft lips in anguish”.
– “Doesn't it, nice, so children laugh
Before lʹvami on red sand?”
– “thy words – songs, they call, and forces,
You again, like before, cheerful”…
– “So children Beaudry, is not it, nice,
That it is time to bed?”

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Marina Tsvetaeva
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