(Osip Mandelstam)
I washed up at night outside the house.
Rugged stars were shining crisp and chilly.
Starry salt was sparkling on the axe.
Water cask was cold and overfilling.
Gate remains padlocked throughout the night
And the Earth is rightfully austere.
No other canvas would be right
To embrace it truthfully and clear.
Stars are drowning like the melting salt,
Icy water blackens in the ewer.
Death is cleaner, graver is the fault,
And the Earth is scarier and truer.
New York, 2 March 2015
I washed up at night outside the house
© Copyright: Дмитрий Александрович Гаранин, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115032700714
Свидетельство о публикации №115032700714
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