Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva

(8 October 1892 – 31 August 1941 / Moscow)

Conversation With A Genius - Poem by Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva

Like mountains - on this brow
Laurels of praise.
'I can't sing!'
- 'You will!' - 'Sound

(Put me on a diet
of flour!)
Like milk -
Is gone from my breast.

Empty. Dry.
In full-blown spring?
I feel like a twig.'
- 'That's an old song!

Drop it, don't blabber!'
'From now on I'd better -
Pound gravel!'
- 'All the more reason to sing!'

'Am I a bullfinch,
To sing
Day in and day out?'
- 'Even if you can't,
My bird, sing!

Out of spite!'
'What if I can't
put two lines together?'
-'When could - anyone?!' -

'It's torture!' - 'Bear it!'
'A mown meadow -
My throat!' 'Then wheeze:
That's a sound, too!'

'It's lions' business
Not women's.' - 'Children's:
Though disembowelled -
Orpheus still sang!'

'So, even in the grave?'
- 'Under a headstone, too.'
'I can't sing!'
- 'Sing about that!


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, April 13, 2010



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