In flower garden, at the height of bloom
A maiden’s weeping on a rainy noon.
Deprived of love and gasping for the air,
Her face distorted by a listless stare.
Rain mixed with tears streaming down her cheeks,
It is aware of the ancient trick:
The time will heal the heartache, sooth the pain,
Allowing the heart to love again.
Competing with the rain the maiden weeps,
And heavens’ help she feverishly seeks:
May thunder roll and wake the dormant heart,
Which wrecked her life and tore her soul apart.
On scalding noon the rain keeps falling down,
It washes tears of pain from face that frowns
The very face that shared its lovely grace
With flowers that adorn this charming place.
She’s so young, she has a lot to learn
About love that pure hearts does burn.
So often, as we give our lovers more,
We tempt them our feelings to ignore.
And as we strive to melt their icy hearts,
We’re drifting ever far and far apart.
She’s young and pure, she is yet to learn
For many more with years she will yearn.
And many times the tears’ tangled lace
The rain will wash off her delightful face.
The rain is weeping on this Summer noon
It knows: life will play a finite tune.
The smile will perish in our maiden’s eyes,
Gray hair will tell of years’ mournful prize.
The maiden knows not that time and time again
She’ll die of love in ever pouring rain.
Abandoned and unloved she’ll shed her tears
Lamenting all the wasted golden years.
Too young to know that in vain she’ll wait
For his embrace at night, on starry date.
And on the sand of golden ocean shore
The words of love she’ll hear no more.
Until the last and fateful drop of rain
To wash away the tear’s stinging stain,
She will embrace the loneliness and pain
And never dwell in lover’s arms again.
By Liana Margiva
Translated from Russian by Anatol Kardiukov