Marina Tsvetaeva
Girlfriend. 5. Today, at about the stroke of eight...

Today, at about the stroke of eight,
Headlong down Bolshaya Lubyanka,
Like a bullet, like a snowball,
A sled flew past, headed somewhere.

Already laughter has rung out…
I managed to freeze with a glance
An auburn fur of hair,
And someone tall — beside you!

You were already with another,
Had cleared the sledding road with her,
With the desired and dear one, —
Desired more than I am.

Oh, I can’t anymore, I’m suffocating —
You cried at the top of your lungs,
Carelessly tossing
Your fur coat upon her.

The world is cheerful and the evening bold!
Purchases fly from the muff…
That is how you dashed into the snowstorm,
Glance to glance and coat to coat.

And it was the cruelest revolt,
And the snow fell down white.
About two seconds —
No longer — I looked after them.

And smoothed the long hairs
On my coat — without rage.
Your little Kai has frozen,
O Snow Queen.

Translated by Karina McCorkle