The violin weeps in shadows of Spring night,
The air is infused with lilac’s fragrance.
Wind sings along and whistles gently,
Aroma spreading out mixed with sadness.
In someone’s pain the heart itself has known,
The wound is open, the dreams are all in slumber.
The pain that heart deprived of joy again erupts …
Why weep again, the violin, why rub it in
That there is no return to past?
Why moan you of the dreams
That in a dream had passed?
In distant past that we call youth
I longed for Love like soil would long for water
Amongst the with’ring draught, like pauper
Earns for bread. I swam and drowned in Love
Without remorse, without second thought
Just like in ocean’s waters, naively thinking
That my Love will be
Like ocean infinite and eternal.
But ocean waves my passion wouldn’t accept,
Afraid of searing passion of my Love
And always threw me back on sandy beaches
Where solitude and desolation reigned.
But I refused to yield and never found respite
In peace where Love didn’t blaze I found no joy.
I plunged time and again in ocean of my dreams,
But futile was my fight with fate, my efforts were in vain
I always was repulsed and left in pain.
Don’t weep, oh, violin, please don’t awaken
The feelings long departed from the soul.
To part with Love is like attending wake:
Your loved one’s gone, but memories remain.
Don’t wake those mem’ries up, violin,
I wasn’t loved and I was cast away
There’s no return to past, or you forgot about that.
I sentenced was to be an outcast
But Love that blazed inside eternity would last,
Its merciless fire would burn me out
Beyond the shadow of the slightest doubt.
But I kept yearning for the bliss of passion,
For unfamiliar feeling to be loved.
I knew the hate from years very young,
That’s why I was refused by Love, it knew not
That those who learn to hate from early days
Love cherish more than those who hate escaped.
I know, violin, Life has passed,
It didn’t wait for Love to find me.
My Spring is gone, its leaves long turned,
And yellow they shiver on the ground
In mortal cold and fear and they whisper
About the end that soon will come around.
Oh, how I hoped my dreams of distant youth
Would finally come true , but life has come to end
And Time has turned to past when we naively thought
That old age comes to people, but somehow it will spare us.
Forever young we’ll prosper among the lilacs’s bloom.
The memory still keeps the golden time of Youth.
Don’t weep, violin, I’m still around
It’s my soul that’s dead
It found no joy in solitude ahead.
By Liana Margiva
Translated from Russian by Anatol Kardiukov