If  I  fail to say it when Death comes calling,

Please, tell the Wind I loved him all life long.

I will not grudge him that he failed

To blow all pain off my immortal soul.

And tell him not be jealous of the ocean:

I split my heart in half between the two!

And let him know that the smell of grass

He used to bring from distant fragrant fields

My heart filled with chagrin and longing

For far-off days of youth when I was loved!

Please, tell the Life, which granted minute bliss

That I kept cherishing the meager days of Spring!

When lavish flowers that reached fool bloom

Their petals dropped to yield to nascent ones,

I couldn’t stop laughing at myself.

Please, don’t forget to tell the Love

That I hold no grudge for tearing my heart apart.

I had but one admirer on this Earth:

A faithful and doting companion,

An aide-de-camp, whose name is Solitude.

I hold no rancor for the Sleepless Nights

That kept their vigil at my lonely bedside.

When I cross over to the other side,

I’ll drown in peace like in the deep of Ocean.

Yet my naïveté amused the Ocean,

Who raised his mighty waves to touch the sky

And flogged the beach without any mercy,

The same beach where I used to muse of peace.

The rain weeps gently, bidding farewell

To Summer’s lazy days.

The fallen leaves are whispering to me

The song of true and everlasting Love

That passed me by without looking back.

A flock of birds takes off for distant lands

Their freedom-loving spirit trails along

Oblivious to those who are trapped

Within the walls of suffocating stone.

A herd of clouds drifts above my head

Beneath sapphire skies they play with wind

And flaunt their hazy, handsome robes.

They hurry not, eternity awaits.

They’ll never understand the wretched one

Who’s days are numbered.

The withered leaves take flight and fall on Earth

Just like my days that fly into abyss

From which there’s no return

And where Time itself is doomed.

By  Liana  Margiva

Translated from Russian by Anatol Kardiukov