I see a mirror in the mud
And take my febrifuge.
I want to know - where`s your path
And where`s your refuge.
I see: the mast of the flagship,
I see – the throneing...
The train... The smoke… The brinksmanship…
Evening fields in groaning -
And evening fields in the dew,
And crows circling there ...
— I bless you too, let go you too
On all four winds. I swear!
Перевод - Марина Цветаева Хочу у зеркала, где муть
© Copyright: Виталий Кармагус, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125072605487
Свидетельство о публикации №125072605487
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