Marina Tsvetaeva
Desk. 1. My desk, most loyal friend...

1

My desk, most loyal friend
thank you. You’ve been with me on
every road I’ve taken.
My scar and my protection.

My loaded writing mule.
Your tough legs have endured
the weight of all my dreams, and
burdens of piled-up thoughts.

Thank you for toughening me.
No worldly joy could pass
your severe looking-glass
you blocked the first temptation,

and every base desire
your heavy oak outweighed
lions of hate, elephants
of spite you intercepted.

Thank you for growing with me
as my need grew in size
I’ve been laid out across you
so many years alive

while you’ve grown broad and wide
and overcome me. Yes,
however my mouth opens
you stretch out limitless.

You’ve nailed me to your wood.
I’m glad. To be pursued.
And torn up. At first light.
To be caught. And commanded:

Fugitive. Back to your chair!
I’m glad you’ve guarded me
and bent my life away
from blessings that don’t last,

as wizards guide sleep walkers!
My battles burn as signs.
You even use my blood to set out
all my acts in lines —

in columns, as you are a pillar
of light. My source of power!
You lead me as the Hebrews once
were led forward by fire.

Take blessings now from me,
as one put to the test, on
elbows, forehead, knotted knees,
your knife edge to my breast.

Translated by Elaine Feinstein