My Shape Is Very Simple Poem by Vic Postnikov

My shape is very simple,
My house is rather poor -
I'm an islander for ever,
From a very distant shore.

I live yet wait nobody,
You come - I welcome you!
To cook a supper for you -
I'd burn my household through.

You look - I'm nearly yours,
You mount - okay, come on!
Our laws are very simple:
Imprinted in the soul.

We'll catch a Moon from Heaven,
And hold it - in a palm -
If he will go - forget him -
Forget I will - my own.

I fear my scar's still burning
And won't be timely closed -
Until another stranger
Would want to quench his thirst.

- Marina Tsvetaeva,1920

Trans. Vic Postnikov,2013