An He Painting
Tsvetajeva Marina Ivanova
Ilike that you are obsessed, but not by me.
I like that I am sick, but not by you.
That never ever the heavy round Earth
Would sail itself away under our feet.
I like, it is permitted to be funny
And loose - and is not to play with words,
Is not to blush with stifling wave slightly
Have touched sleeves each other's, you and me.
And I like still that you can calmly
Embrace the others in my dear presence,
You don't predict me burning in the hell
Because I kiss not you, but someone else.
Again and again my tender name, my tender,
You haven't mentioned day or night - in vain...
That never in the church silence for forever
Would sing above us: halli -halleluya!
Thank you for that, from very heart and hand,
You do love me - and never knowing it! - so much,
For peace and rest allowed me at nights,
For rarity of seeing you at sunsets,
For walking not together under the moon
And for the sun is not above us all along,
For you are sick - alas! -but not by me,
For I am sick - alas! - but not by you.