The morrow comes

I won’t be there to see it.

A lucky woman, folks will say,

She’s lived a long life till this day.

I reckon this is true to say

With notable exception:

No one will know that life was stocked

To very brim with angst and hurt.

The morrow comes to see me charred

Deleted, gone, to ashes burnt,

As if the blaze of unrequited love

That burned my soul for many years

For lifetime wasn’t enough.

The ocean waves will take away

To the abyss of yesterday

The ashes of my singed heart

In which the Solitude once built

Eternal nest with darkness filled.

The morrow comes to see me gone

From face of Earth, the loveless one,

The one who dreamt of bliss and passion

By love rejected in most cruel fashion.

The ones my heart has craved

For months and years,

Paid no attention to my ache and tears.

Save solitude, my escort and my guard,

Which chased me out at night

Into backyard, so I could share

My pleas and prayers with eternal moon.

The morrow comes to see me gone,

The birds will wake and sing

To greet the dawn

Not missing me and not at all regretting

My glaring absence from this past’ral setting.

The wind will rip the dead leaves from the trees,

And throw them into uncertainty abyss

While ocean waves will carry far away

The ashes of burnt heart as fancy prey.

The morrow comes to see me gone and lost,

No more the solitude’s eternal host: it will be free

To seek its new refuge and resurrection

In hearts of those plagued by love’s rejection.

The morrow comes to see me gone for good,

Unloved, I walked the Earth,

A mere piece of driftwood,

Depraved of happiness, committed to frustration,

Yet how painful is with Earth eternal separation!

And God will say he always loved me!

Then why on Earth he depraved me of love,

Why committed me to pain and suffering?

By Liana Margiva

Translated from Russian by Anatol Kardiukov