Vladislav Khodasevich
A Berlin note

So? Hot grog or cognac poured to waylay?
From chills to cold - the route is barred.
Through dishes' jingling, music's playing —
The lilac twilight cloaks the bar.

As if entombed by thick and solid
And smooth expanse of polished glass,
Light blue aquarium is gorged with stolid
Strange fauna, which within it pass.

There streetcars glide, their torsoes eye-filled
They float among wet linden trees
Like schools of fish whose tails are dark grills —
Electric, flashy, slow beasts.

In night's decay — it waves and slithers
Reflects on thick and alien glass,
My table's surface queerly withers
In streetcar's windows as they pass.

And sinking into strange existence,
I recognize with sharp disgust
Cut-off and lifeless in a distance,
My head stares back through nightly rust.

Translated by Athena