I've cut my veins - unrestrained,
Unrestored life would gush.
Put a plate. Bring a bowl.
Any vessel is low!
It will go -
to the brim -
o'er the edge -
Down to earth,
feed the rush.
Unrestrained, unrestored
Poems gush.
- Marina Tsvetaeva,1934
Trans. Vic Postnikov,2011
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem