Marina Tsvetaeva
You, whose sleep is without awakening...

You, whose sleep is without awakening,
Who does still quietly move,
Go to the Three-Pond alley
If you my poems love.

O, how sunny and how starry
It's to start the life's first tome
I pray - while it is not too late yet —
Come and take a look at our home!

Soon that world will be snuffed out,
In a secret of the night look at it,
While the poplar is not cut down
And our home is not sold yet.

This our poplar! Our childhood's evenings
Underneath it nestle and thrash.
This our poplar among acacias
Is the color of silver and ash.

Hurry on, you will find this world
Unforgettably wonderful!
Go to the Three-Pond Alley
To this soul of my soul.

Translated by Ilya Shambat