Lady's Hands Were Washed... Poem by Vladislav Khodasevich
Lady's Hands Were Washed...
Lady's hands were washed and serviced,
Lady's hands were strongly stirred,
This good Lady didn't forget, else,
A red neck that was cut here.
Poor Lady, with her fears,
Shakes in her bed like a birdie.
She didn't sleep for hundred years -
I didn't - for six years in order.
Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, December, 2000
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
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5/2/2024 4:02:36 PM # 1.0.0.1119
