Alone with myself
Today I've looked at myself,
And seen that I'm someone else.
A shrunken and wrinkled ELF
There is a very cold winter time.
The streets are filled with snow,
A lonely star's shining in the sky.
I'm looking at her from my home.
Below is a short biography of Marina Tsvetaeva and my translation of one of her poems.
Whether I loved you or not
Alas, I cannot say anything,
As I never really thought;
The Poet's Wife
Wife grumbles all day through:
"Just look, writes poems, idiot!
His brain's got really crooked.
My grandson grows up and I'll tell him
I'd lived in the country full of dream.
It carried out the Soviet Union's name,
Ruined by renegades without a shame.
Alexander Pushkin I loved you
(my English poems)
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
About me self
I in the Soviet Union was born*