Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva

(8 October 1892 – 31 August 1941 / Moscow)

Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva Poems

1. Poems for Blok, 1 9/15/2015
2. No Longer Now 5/26/2014
3. You Walk, And Look Like Me 4/13/2010
4. I Like That You Are Crazy Not With Me 2/23/2015
5. Poets (Excerpt) 4/13/2010
6. Prayer 4/13/2010
7. Dis-Stance: Versts, Miles 4/13/2010
8. Conversation With A Genius 4/13/2010
9. Books In Red Binding 4/13/2010
10. New Moon 4/13/2010
11. You Who Loved Me With The Falseness 4/13/2010
12. To Asya 4/13/2010
13. Tryst 4/13/2010
14. Meeting 4/13/2010
15. Dialogue Between Hamlet And His Conscience 4/13/2010
16. Terminal Silhouette 4/13/2010
17. To The Next One 4/13/2010
18. Girlfriend 1/1/2004
19. For My Poems, Written So Early 4/13/2010
20. The Window 1/1/2004
21. Before A Little Coffin 4/13/2010
22. From Four Till Seven 4/13/2010
23. In Paris 4/13/2010
24. To Mother 1/1/2004
25. Grey Hairs 1/1/2004
26. Whence Cometh Such Tender Rapture? 1/1/2004
27. The Demon In Me 1/1/2004
28. Lady With Camelias 4/13/2010
29. Little World 1/1/2004
30. Much Like Me 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva

Much Like Me

Much like me, you make your way forward,
Walking with downturned eyes.
Well, I too kept mine lowered.
Passer-by, stop here, please.

Read, when you've picked your nosegay
Of henbane and poppy flowers,
That I was once called Marina,
And discover how old I was.

Don't think that there's any grave here,
Or that I'll come and throw you out ...
I myself was too much given
To laughing when one ought not.

The blood hurtled to my complexion,
My curls wound in flourishes ...
I was, passer-by, I existed!
Passer-by, stop here, please.

And ...

Read the full of Much Like Me

To Mother

In the old Strauss waltz for the first time
We had listened to your quiet call,
Since then all the living things are alien
And the knocking of the clock consoles.

We, like you, are gladly greeting sunsets,
And are drunk on nearness of the end.
All, with which on better nights we're wealthy
Is put in the hearts by your own hand.

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