Girlfriend.

Girlfriend.



There are names like stuffy flowers,
And there looks like dancing flames ...
There are dark winding mouths
With deep and wet corners.

There are women - Their hair, such as hat,
Their fan smells fatal and subtle.
They thirty years. - Why do you, why
My soul Spartan child?

Tsvetaeva "Girlfriend". 1914







Here it is, the perfect creature, the pinnacle of perfection. Brunette with a clear haircut in something tight, deaf and always black. A little bit of decadence, fracture, erotica, blemish. Oh, damn it! There are models in something of Charlotte Ginsburg. Sort legged creature with a high neck and deer eyes. Infinitely long, thin-thin ...









Available neck raised,
As a young runaway.
Who's to say the name of who - summer
Who edge of her who - age?

Gyrus pale lips
Capricious and weak,
But the dazzling ledge
Beethoven's forehead.

Prior to touching clean
A perfect oval,
Hand, which would go to the whip
And in silver - Opal.

Hand decent bow,
Pushed in silk,
Unique hand
Beautiful hand.












Night over coffee grounds
Crying, looking to the East.
Mouth innocent and dissolved,
How monstrous flower.

Soon month - young and thin -
Replace scarlet dawn.
How I'll chaser
And rings buy!

Junior month between branches
Nobody usterёg.
How many gifts brasletok,
And chains and earrings!

From under the heavy mane
Shine bright pupils!
Satellites your jealous? -
Blood horses are easy!









All eyes in the sun - burning,
Day is the day.
I say to you, in case
If you change:

Whose b no kissing lips
I love h
Black midnight anyone
Scary nor swore -

Live like a mother tells the child,
Like a flower bloom,
Never in someone aside
The eye is not the story ...

See cross cypress?
- He'll sign -
Everything wakes up - just whistle
Under my window.












Repeat on the eve of separation,
By the end of love,
I loved these hands
Your power

And his eyes - someone - someone
Eyes do not give! -
Requiring report
For a casual look.

All of you with your damned
Passion - God knows! -
Demanding retribution
For random breath.

And I say wearily,
- Listen do not rush! -
What I got your soul
Across the soul.

And I'll tell you:
- Anyway, Eve! -
This mouth to kiss
Thy was young.

Look-up look - bold and bright,
Heart - five years ...
Happy is he who you have not met
In its path.

Ctihi Marina Tsvetaeva from "Girlfriend" (1914)