Elisaveta Dmitrieva
Sonnet

“Nuestra pasión fué un trágico soneto. ”
— G. A. Becquer

My love is a tragic sonnet.
In it, there is the imperious structure of the sonnet’s repetitions,
Of separations and meetings, and new returns —
The surf of Fate from the darkness of former years.

The unconsummated delirium of two maidens,
The transport of two souls, the torment of two doubts,
The double temptation of heavenly seductions,
But each of them said proudly, “No.”

Following the even lines, the uneven tercets
Came to me in a returning sequence.
The sonnet’s vault closed above me.

The questions and answers have been repeated:
“Do you accept life? Will you follow me?
Will you accept the Sacrament from my hands?”
“No!”

Translated by Temira Pachmuss