It is true, is it not, that our souls are not used yet to parting?
With a shimmer of glimmering wings they each other call!
Someone higher parted the arms, tenderly interwoven,
But forgot the remembering souls.
Every evening, lit up by the will of a sorceress gentle.
Every evening, when over the hills, in the heart, stands the fog,
To the soul not forgetting the former deception comes near
With a meek and not confident walk.
Like the wind, that with sharp gusts awakens the things of times prior,
From the glimmering lines your are smiling at me once again.
All is permitted, all! You from dream, I in dream. Will not judge us
The angst of the day.
Someone higher betrayed us to nameless delicious torment,
(Many wanderings blunderings through dark and snow there will be!)
Someone higher parted the arms, tenderly interwoven...
Not responsible for this are we!
By Marina Tsvetayeva
Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat