Black As The Pupil Of An Eye, Sucking At Light by Marina Tsvetaeva

Black as the pupil of an eye, sucking at light

like the pupil of an eye, I love you, far-sighted night.

 

Give me the voice to sing of you, godmother of every hymn,

you in whose hand lie the brindles of the four winds.

 

Calling on you, extolling you, I am no more than

a shell where the sea-swell goes on roaring.

 

Night! I have looked long enough into human eyes.

Now, emblaze me, make ash of me, black-sun-night!

 

by Марина Ивановна Цветаева (Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva)

(1916)

translated by Robert Chandler

Advertisements

I’m Nothing To You, I Mean Zero by Maria Petrovykh

I’m nothing to you, I mean zero.

I know, there’s nothing more to say.

And yet I love you still more dearly,

ecstatically and without mercy,

and like a drunk, I stumble, reel,

and loiter in a lightless alley,

insisting that I love you still –

no mercy, and ecstatically.

 

by Мария Сергеевна Петровых (Maria Sergeyevna Petrovykh)

(1959)

translated by Boris Dralyuk