M.Tsvetaeva, New Moon - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

New moon has raised up high in heaven
Above the dewy meadows.
Dear, distant and alien,
Come to become my friend.

In daytime - I'm concealing,
I'm silent. Moon in heaven -
I can't stand! I wish to lean then
To the shoulder of dear.

I shan't ask myself: 'Who is he? '
Answer will be - your warm lips!
Only the day embraces - are mean,
Only the day rush looks like jeer.

In daytime, I'm in torture
By proud deuce, my lips lie.
But in night... Ah! .. My dear, and far...
Sickle moon's above the forest!