My Angel
Neither by night, nor day’s bright glory.
All I boasted was empty, vain,
But you — do not leave me in pain!
Stronger than all is feeling’s sixth,
Like the jig of rain and fire’s mix:
My angel, I am not worthy, true,
But do not leave me — stay in view!
Life and death I meet standing, still,
Not exalting, not cursing, by will…
My angel, I am not worthy, yet,
Do not abandon me, I beg you, yet!
For a Last Drink
All was delicious, proper, fine.
I do not look: kiss as you please…
Ah yes! I’m glad that you — his spouse with ease.
Though this speech may seem absurd,
And my role, plainly, is misplaced word,
Do not explain — I know, in truth,
But I drink the cup, as is the custom, to the tooth.
And now? One last drink? Wine again?
No. A smoke first — by the windowpane.
What’s strange? I drank a little, sure.
Such times occur, of that I’m sure.
Yet the cup must be drunk to the last,
To the bottom — until it drips past.
Oh, how much is needed for such a swallow,
To forget you are now a wife to follow!..
“Hosts! One last drink — for wine!”
And the door will slam. You’ll shudder in line.
Do not pretend it does not hurt you.
It is dark now. The window blows too.
Except You
But it did not help. I remembered you.
I traveled beyond nine lands’ paths,
And never returned anew.
But it did not help. I remembered you.
I met with others, and they loved me too.
But it did not help. I remembered you.
I drank myself to death,
Like a cobbler,
Like a wretch,
Like the last creature beneath.
But it did not help. I remembered you.
I married, had children, became settled.
But it did not help. I remember you.
I grow old.
All fades from memory.
All.
Except you.