B.Akhmadulina, Tenderness - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

Tenderness
by Bella Akhmadulina

This tenderness is felt perceptible,
And full of the material signs.
It suddenly appears, tenderness,
In image and in thing at once.

Appears as the green-glass vase
On the edge of table, and you lean,
To look at and to delight, amazed,
The whirpool of its clearness.

All flat will go into trouble,
And everyone will be surprised.
- Where from you got such vase, my lovely? -
You'll strictly ask your dear wife.

- And how much the antique dealer had taken for it? -
O, don't reproach her - it's me, dear,
It's me, who's smiling, crying, living,
In distance, though, and my tears
Are so glassy. Their falling seems
To be so hard. They ring
As the glasses, smashed to smithereens.

Because of you such absent being
From me so frequently,
For half an hour I see you only,
I use creating inoffensively
And innocently- miracles.

When cloud covers you and suddenly,
It is the usual thing in mountains,
You'll shout: - Here's no rest, no any!
Where from had this cloud come now?

But superstitiously, like a peasant,
Don't be afraid, don't cry 'Away! '
Those crystals mine, such pure, tender,
Fell on your dear shoulders.

So unpretendiously, gently
I have conjured in some point,
And the interesting thing appeared
For your commemoration long.

But by the habits of kind roques, though,
And playing again with that strong power,
I'll try to make you safe from troubles,
And thus I'll be then full consoled.

Farewell! Do all your business now!
My play will be forgotten once.
But tales mine for your small child
Will be as joy in future life.