Marina Tsvetaeva
Praise to Aphrodite. 2. Already gods` — not the same generosity...

Already gods' — not the same generosity,
Upon the river's shore, not the same one.
Fly, fly again, the doves of Aphrodite
Into wide open gates of setting sun.

I'll leave in day, in which there is no count,
Lying upon the sand that's growing cold...
I've outgrown my youth and look upon it
Like snake that's looking at his skin of old.

Translated by Ilya Shambat