Monday, December 10, 2012

Valery Bryusov - To a Woman


You are a woman; you’re a book of books,
You are a scroll furled up upon impression;
Its lines replete with words and ruminations,
And every instant’s wild in its crooks.

You are a woman, the witches brew creation,

Which sets on fire hardly reaching lips,
But fire-swallowers subdue their own shrieks 
By drowning mad torture in laudations.

You are a woman and in this you’re just, 

From the inception crowned in constellations,
A deity epitome within our chasms!

We serve you grinding rocky foundations,

We bear iron burden for your sake,
And pray to you with fervor in your wake!

Translated by Dina Belyayeva

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