Marina Tsvetaeva
Girlfriend. 6. At nightfall, she hunches over the tea-leaves...

At nightfall, she hunches over the tea-leaves
tearfully trying to read in these
whether we’ve a future,
stares out the window eastward.
Her mouth opens artlessly as she sighs—
her lower lip’s beauty is nearly indecent,
like an orchid’s pendant labellum.

Soon the moon, young and slender as she,
watched for on the east horizon, rises,
making a different kind of dawn,
blue and cool, not intensely yellow-red.
Soon I’ll give gifts to this sky-watching girl:
moon-light silver rings,
moon-white ivory combs.

The chaste moon, peeking shyly through the branches
can’t protect anyone from gifts such as these
bracelets, earrings, chains.

Her pupils sparkle like garnets
under her heavy mane.
“Are your little friends jealous
because I choose you?
You can explain to them that I race
only perfect thoroughbreds.”

Translated by Seraphina Powell