Osip Mandelshtam
I was given a body...

I was given a body – what to do with it now,
One so unique and my own somehow?

For this quiet joy, to breathe and to be,
Whom should I thank, somebody tell me?

I’m the gardener, I’m the flower as well,
I’m not alone in world’s dungeon cell.

On the glass of eternity, I’ve already left
A mark of my warmth, a mark of my breath.

And on its surface, a pattern is made
Unrecognizable still of late.

Let the cloudiness of the moments cascade –
The lovely pattern will never fade.

Translated by Andrey Kneller