Marina Tsvetaeva
Parting 6. You won’t see me — grey...

6

You won’t see me — grey.
I won’t see you — grown.
From immobilized eyes
You can’t squeeze a tear.

To all of your torment,
Dawn’s explosion — lament:
— Lower your arm!
Shed your raincoat!

In the dispassion
Of a stone-eyed cameo,
I won’t linger in the door,
As mothers linger:

(All the gravity of blood,
Of knees, of eyes —
For the very last earthly
Time!)

Not as a sneaking broken beast —
No, as a stone massif
I’ll go out of the door —
From life. For what then
Should tears flow,
As long as — I’m a stone off your
Shoulders!

Not a stone! — Already
In aquiline wideness —
A cloak! – and already on the azure rapids
Into that radiant city,
Whither — no mother
Dares to bring
Her child.

Translated by Sibelan Forrester