It Breathed Of England Poem by Vic Postnikov

«now - in spite of everything - England…»


It breathed of England - and the Sea -
And courage - stern and stiff -
-I laugh at newly coming grief,
A cadet on a ship.

Amid the craziness of storm,
In private with the God,
I'm overwhelmed with monkey waves,
I dance upon the foam.

These hands are stubborn as a rope -
Got used to a salty span;
This heart is beating with a grit -
Not all end up in bed.

And thus, inhaling all the cold
And starless murkiness -
O'er yawning fathomless abyss
I laugh! - my lashes press.


- Marina Tsvetaeva, 1920
Trans. Vic Postnikov