Marina Tsvetaeva
To Fathers. 2. Generation with lilac...

2

Generation with lilac
And on Easter in Kremlin,
My hello to generation
In the earth to the knee,

And with gray spots — in stars!
Than the reed louder,
To you, speaking: "so-ul"
Will tremble the air.

Only having saved the soul
From wealth of family
Without brotherhood or equals
To older contemporaries,

Arms of faith and of friendship,
Like Caucasian — an ewer
Full of grape! — to the foe
Stretching out — the two!

Not with Siren — with lilac
Locked in cave with a key,
Generation — with soaring!
With gravity

From the earth, over earth,
From the grain and the worm!
Generation — without soil,
But with such — to bottom,

With seen bottom's abyss.
That from orbits sunken
Looks as if one alive
Like a pleasant virgin.

Generation, where he looked
The best who suffered the most!
Continuation of mirrors.
Generation! I'm yours!

Yours — in physique and essence,
And respect for the mind,
And contempt for the flesh's
Dress dissolving with time!

You — to the child doomed
A poet to be,
Having persuaded to honor
All but ringing money:

All gods — all times — all tribes
Except the god Vaal!
My immortal bow
Generation with fall!

To you, that with one unheard of
Were able to — live,
To you, that among noisy ball
Were able to — love!

Having turned to the stars
Till the hour final —
Departing race,
Gratitudes to you all!

Translated by Ilya Shambat