Marina Tsvetaeva
To Fathers. 1. In the world bellowing...

1

In the world bellowing:
Glory to the coming!
What whispers in me:
Glory to the gone be!

To you, passing,
That won't counted be,
Not bearing children,
Preceding me.

With brush, with key
They argued, with deed
Written — pure
Was their life, with honor.

White - than treasures
Of snow more fair! —
A novel — your
Conscience's — hair.

Translated by Ilya Shambat