Arseny Tarkovsky
Here`s our table set for six...

Here's our table set for six,
Roses, crystal gloss.
And among the guests, amiss,
There are grief and loss.

Here comes father from the past,
Brother from the war.
Hours pass. We hear, at last,
Knocking at the door...

And her hand is just as cold
As 'twas twelve years back,
And unfashionable folds
Shine in silky black.

And the clinking glasses chant
In the murky glow:
“Oh, how much we loved you, and –
Oh, how long ago!”

We exchange our smiles with dad,
Brother serves us wine,
And she says, her hand unwed
Gently touching mine:

“Ah, my heels are all in mold,
And my braid got thin.
From the underground cold
All our voices sing.”

Translated by Alexander Givental and Elysee Wilson-Egolf