A Woman, Lost in Thought

Translation of poems by Natalia Kizhvatkina

I am a woman, idle, full of grace, 
Yet none of these bright days are mine to chase. 
All promises once whispered have come true— 
Love, joy, and happiness in grandest hue.

There was a youth, so wild and full of breeze, 
First kisses lost in dreamy reveries, 
The thrill of holidays, the sweet delight, 
Oh, how it fades—like shadows in the night.

And now I celebrate with quiet pain 
The days of life that still for me remain. 
To guard them from despair and bitter rain, 
And grace them with the springtime’s bloom again.

Now from afar I watch the festive cheer, 
It sparkles bright—but not for me, I fear. 
Around me all is hollow, pale, and still, 
Still beautiful... but not for me to fill.

My life has spilled like beads upon the floor, 
Long years stretched out—too many to restore. 
How sad that youth has vanished in its flight, 
And won’t return, not even for one night.

And so I celebrate with quiet pain 
The days of life that still for me remain. 
To guard them from despair and bitter rain, 
And grace them with the springtime’s bloom again.

And so I celebrate with quiet pain 
The days of life that still for me remain. 
To guard them from despair and bitter rain, 
And grace them with the springtime’s bloom again.