How is your life with that other one? Simpler, is it? A stroke of the oars and a long coastline— and the memory of me is soon a drifting island (not in the ocean—in the sky!) — Marina Tsvetaeva, from “An Attempt at Jealousy,” Poetry (March 2012)
… I’d like to live with you In some small town, In never-ending twilight … — Marina Tsvetaeva, from “We Shall Not Escape Hell,” Selected Poetry, trans. Elaine Feinstein (Oxford University Press, 1971)
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