The tulips shut their tender petals
To guard the secrets of the day.
The path turned into stinging-nettles -
I watched you going away.
The garden gate would sigh and veil
The sound of steps. And then, it seems,
I'll hide my wishes like a snail
Into the shell of sleepy dreams.
The moon is bright and newly-born
And looks so curious and fine…
I'll kill those flowers at dawn:
My mysteries should be all mine.
Translated from Russian by Larisa Ladyka
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem