Magic violin - after N. Gumilev

My child, you’re smiling,
fierce as the sun.

Don’t ask me for this violin —
you don’t yet know the suffering,
the curse of the chosen one.

My child, I must warn you:
once the violin is in your hands,
you’ll trade your peace to walk through
a pageant where beasts surround you,
bewitched by magic wands.

These strings will sing and tremble,
will weep like desperate rain,
inflame the mind with fever,
with crazy diamond glimmer,
and bare the heart to pain.

But, child, when you fall silent,
you will not breathe once more —
wild beasts will clutch your throat then
and choke you with obsession,
with all the dreams you’re for.

And you will learn the secret
once laughed away at last:
a finger on the trigger,
instead of fallen stringbow,
will end your childhood fast.

So, child, walk away now —
no joy waits for you here.
Yet still I see you smiling…

Take now the magic violin.
You’ll learn what silence hears.