There’s hardly any body left,
The tortured lips have all but withered!
I didn’t want this kind of death,
The time-frame that I chose was different.
I had an image: two big clouds
Collide together, fast and free,
And lightning’s fire plummets down,
And mighty ecstasy rings loud,
And both, like angels, come for me.
Как страшно изменилось тело,
Как рот измученный поблёк!
Я смерти не такой хотела,
Не этот назначала срок.
Казалось мне, что туча с тучей
Сшибётся где-то в вышине
И молнии огонь летучий
И голос радости могучей,
Как ангелы, сойдут ко мне.
«Dying, I’ll not say: "I was". / No regrets, I’ll not cast blame. / There are greater things in this world / Than love’s storm, and passion’s game. But you — wing-beat against my chest, / Fresh, guilty cause of my inspiration — / You I command to: — Be! / My obedience – »
«I’m no impostor — I’m home. / I’m no servant — I brought no leaven. / I’m — your passion, your Sunday rest, / Your seventh day, your seventh heaven. They hung millstones round my neck, / On earth, they flung me a penny. / — Lover! — Surely you know? / I am your swa»
«To kiss the brow — eases all anxiety. / I kiss the brow. To kiss the eyes — cures insomnia’s misery. / I kiss the eyes. To kiss the lips — one’s no longer thirsty. / I kiss the lips. To kiss the brow — erases memory. / I kiss the brow.»
«After a night of insomnia, the body slows: / Dear, but not his, not anyone’s — to have. / In sluggish veins the moan of arrows, / You smile at everyone, like a seraph. After a night of insomnia, arms hang low, / You’re indifferent to friend or enemy, / In every random sound there’...»