Mikhail Kuzmin
When they say to me: “Alexandria”...

When they say to me: “Alexandria” —
I see the white walls of a house,
A smallish garden with beds of stocks,
The pale sun of an autumn sunset,
And I hear the sounds of distant flutes.

When they say to me: “Alexandria” —
I see the stars above a retiring city,
Drunken sailors in its dark alleys,
The girl doing the “wasp” dance,
And I hear the sound of tambourines
and the shouts of a brawl.

When they say to me: “Alexandria”—
I see the palish crimson sunset over a green sea,
Shaggy twinkling stars,
And bright gray eyes under thick brows,
The eyes I see even then
When they do not say to me: “Alexandria.”

Translated by Yakov Hornstein