An Attempt at Jealousy How is your life with an ordinary woman? without the god inside her? The queen supplanted— How do you breathe now? Flinch, waking up? What do you do, poor man? How’s your life with a tourist on Earth? Her rib (do you love her?) is it to your liking? How do… Continue reading Marina Tsvetaeva
No one has ever stared more / tenderly or more fixedly after you. / I kiss you-across hundreds of / separating years. — Marina Tsvetaeva, “No one has taken anything away,” Selected Poems (Penguin Classics, 1994)
How is your life with an ordinary woman? without the god inside her? — Marina Tsvetaeva, from “An Attempt at Jealousy,” Selected Poems. (Penguin Classics; 4th Revised ed. Edition, January 1, 1994) Originally published 1971.
… my whole sky craves an island of tenderness. My rivers tilt towards you. — Marina Tsvetaeva, from “My ear attends to you,” Selected Poems, (Penguin Classics, 1994)
A stone thrown into a silent lake is—the sound of your name. The light click of hooves at night —your name. Your name at my temple —shrill click of a cocked gun. — Marina Tsvetaeva, from “Poems for Blok, 1,” The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry. Edited by Ilya Kaminsky and Susan Harris. (Ecco… Continue reading Marina Tsvetaeva
Too much kissing has left your lips so yielding, and me like a beggar. Am I alone? More like the thousandth! More conquest than a conqueror. —Marina Tsvetaeva, from “Playacting,” Moscow in the Plague Year: Poems (Archipelago, 2014)
A kiss on the forehead—erases misery. I kiss your forehead. A kiss on the eyes—lifts sleeplessness. I kiss your eyes. A kiss on the lips—is a drink of water. I kiss your lips. A kiss on the forehead—erases memory. I kiss the forehead. Marina Tsvetaeva, “A Kiss on the Forehead,” (June 5, 1917) Translation by… Continue reading Marina Tsvetaeva