M.Tsvetaeva, I'm not thinking, not... - translation (rus.)
I'm not thinking, not complaining and
And not aiming to
Sun or moon, to sea
Or to a ship.
I'm not feeling, how hot is air
That walls within,
How green is garden,
And not expecting for the long-wished gift,
I'm not glad either of morning, or of trams ringing
While running outside.
I'm living all without marking a century
Or day, forgetting now.
On that, seemed slightly cut, strained rope
I'm like - a little dancer,
a shadow of someone's shadow, a sleeping-walker
Of two moons dark.
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