M.Tsvetaeva, Tverskaya [street] - Translation (Rus.) - Poem by Lyudmila Purgina
by Marina Tsvetaeva
Here's the world, where the show-windows're shining,
Here's - the Tverskaya street, worth to grieve about.
Who is better for Asya in need, than Marina?
Who is better for me, than so dear Asya?
We are walking together, excited,
Absorbing all around: sunset, lanterns, voices,
And lowering our eyes for sometimes
Under the glare of somebody.
It is only for us, with shining fires,
And the Moscow april evening - only for us.
To all adults - the street,
we are fond of Tverskaya,
That's the cradle of half-adult's hearts.
That's - the cradle of a gold dawn cheering,
And surprise of the things, given by dawn...
Here's the window with Tate's brilliants,
Here's - another window with fires burned...
We shall catch all by our senses or faith,
All the understar distance or the heaven's breadth!
And towering above the grey square
The Maundy Monastery is turning scarlet.
We are going, never stopping a talk.
All are dear - words, dear all are - the features!
Oh, the unforgettable april - and Tverskaya all,
Was the cradle of our youth, riches!
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