I am. You- will be. There’s a gap between us.
I drink. You’re- thirsty. No room for bargains.
Ten years, like a hundred thousand years,
Divide us. God provided no crossings.
“Be,” I command, and let me
Pass by you breathlessly
Not violating growth.
I am. You- will be. Ten springs down the road,
You’ll say, “I am,”
And I will say, “I used to…”
From Marina Tsvetaeva
© Copyright: Галина Иззьер, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109092705619
Свидетельство о публикации №109092705619
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