Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva
Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva Poems
- Grey Hairs These are ashes of treasures: Of hurt and ...
- Much Like Me Much like me, you make your way ...
- Little World Children - are staring of eyes so frightful,...
- Lady With Camelias Your whole way with shining evil's ...
- Whence Cometh Such Tender Rapt... Whence cometh such tender ...
- The Demon In Me The demon in me's not dead, He's living, and...
- To Mother In the old Strauss waltz for the first time ...
Marina Tsvetaeva was born in Moscow. Her father, Ivan Tsvetayev, was a professor of art history and the founder of the Museum of Fine Arts. Her mother Mariya, née Meyn, was a talented concert pianist. The family travelled a great deal and Tsvetaeva attended schools in Switzerland, Germany, and at the Sorbonne, Paris. Tsvetaeva started to write verse in her early childhood. She made her debut as a poet at the age of 18 with the collection Evening Album, a tribute to her childhood.
In 1912 Tsvetaeva married Sergei Efron, they had two daughters and one son. Magic Lantern showed her technical mastery and was followed in 1913 by a selection of poems from her first collections. ... more »
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These are ashes of treasures:
Of hurt and loss.
These are ashes in face of which
Granite is dross.
Dove, naked and brilliant,
It has no mate.
Over vanity that's great.
Time's menacing chalkmark,
Not to be overthrown.
Means God knocks at the door
-- Once the house has burned down!
Not choked yet by refuse,
Days' and dreams' conqueror.
Like a thunderbolt -- Spirit
Of early grey hair.
It's not you who've betrayed me
On the home front, years.
This grey is the triumph
Of immortal powers.