By Bella Akhmadulina
In that may... Oh, in that month
I had such light and fair feeling,
And, spreading over the earth,
The weather with its flight attracted me.
I was so generous, so lavish
In happy such anticipation
Of the future singing, as a goldfinch,
I plunged my feathers into air.
But, thank God, after time my sight
Became more shrewd and rigorous rather,
So every breath and every flight
Became more precious in my life.
And I'm concerned with a mist of day,
Its scene is clear me now.
I look around, grinning as
And old Jew is looking, smiling.
I see the rooks, making a clamour,
They hang over the blackish snow,
And tediously sitting women,
Bent over the knitting rows.
And somewhere, blowing in his pipe,
Destroying the flower- and vegetable-beds,
Somebody's baby joyously is running
And breaking order without regret.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem