Hello! I suppose you noticed
the rustling of my dress to the left of your desk.
I’m afraid I’m interrupting,
pausing your pen in mid sentence?
Evidently not, you keep on writing
as though no one were were here.
Well, I came to you, because—
you don’t plan to speak so hurtfully
do you, now, as you did the last time? You say
you won’t even look at my tears,
how I wring my hands, my hands . . .
It’s such a bright, uncluttered place,
your study. If you send me away
there’s no place left I can go,
except beneath a bridge’s dark arch,
where the dank stench of the Neva half chokes one,
where its dirty, freezing waters will finish the job.
Здравствуй! Легкий шелест слышишь
Справа от стола?
Этих строчек не допишешь —
Я к тебе пришла.
Неужели ты обидишь
Так, как в прошлый раз,—
Говоришь, что рук не видишь,
Рук моих и глаз.
У тебя светло и просто.
Не гони меня туда,
Где под душным сводом моста
Стынет грязная вода.