Marina Tsvetaeva
Praise to Aphrodite. 3. In vain, inside the promised branches hiding...

In vain, inside the promised branches hiding,
Your tender retinue thunders above.
I drop a myrtle that did love so many,
I drop the belt that did so sweetness love.

With a dumb arrow that is heavily piercing
Freed me from these my shackles your own son.
Thus at the very throne of my calmness
You born of foam, as a foam be gone!

Translated by Ilya Shambat