Osip Mandelstam - *

1
In Sunday marvel disbelieving
We walked through cemetary stones
The land as you well know
Reminds me of these hills at dawn
Where Russia tears itself free
Over a black and deafening sea.

2
From monastery mount
Meadow runs long and still.
I don't want to head south
From wilds of Vladimir.
But in this darkened, wooden
And ugly country rubble
To stay with a drunk nun
Means only trouble.

3
I kiss the suntanned elbow
And waxen forehead skin.
I know -- under tanned yellow -
It still is white and thin.
I kiss the place where bracelet
Has left a stripe of pale.
Taurida's flaming summer
Creates such miracle.

4
How soon did you grow tanner
And came to mass to bow
You kissed the cross forever
Grew proud in Moscow
To us remains but naming:
Until the end
Take from my palms forever
The holy sand.


(Ut: Tristia. Oersetting: Ilya Shambat)