#marina
The former Chilean soldier,
sits with a straight back,
eating Paila marina,
the same thing he makes
every Sunday, although
his wife and children are gone.
He delights in the long-ago flavors,
the rich swirl of saffron fire,
the unlocked mussel shells,
ginger-skinned shrimp
and floating onion slivers.
"Served without pretension,"
the saying rings in his memory,
the deep voice of his abuela,
as she stirs the liquid gems
in her wide, copper ***
shining on a darkened stove.
“Only some things really matter,”
She often explains.
He always waits silently,
squatting nearby, inhaling the scent,
mouth watering, eyes catching
the lift of her great ladle.
She will turn and smile at him,
the way no one ever has.
He is warmed and fed already,
before even tasting the meal.
Now he is rich, wanting nothing,
sitting in his well-appointed house,
sipping the best wine
and listening to soft music.
Yet he sees and hears none of it.
Only the world in his bowl
is real to him now.
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 4:18 PM UTC
I Know The Truth
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
I know the truth―abandon lesser truths!
There's no need for anyone living to struggle!
See? Evening falls, night quickly descends!
So why the useless disputes―generals, poets, lovers?
The wind is calming now; the earth is bathed in dew;
the stars' infernos will soon freeze in the heavens.
And soon we'll sleep together, under the earth,
we who never gave each other a moment's rest above it.
###
I Know The Truth (Alternate Ending)
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I know the truth―abandon lesser truths!
There's no need for anyone living to struggle!
See? Evening falls, night quickly descends!
So why the useless disputes―generals, poets, lovers?
The wind caresses the grasses; the earth gleams, damp with dew;
the stars' infernos will soon freeze in the heavens.
And soon we'll lie together under the earth,
we who were never united above it.
###
Poems about Moscow
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
5
Above the city Saint Peter once remanded to hell
now rolls the delirious thunder of the bells.
As the thundering high tide eventually reverses,
so, too, the woman who once bore your curses.
To you, O Great Peter, and you, O Great Tsar, I kneel!
And yet the bells above me continually peal.
And while they keep ringing out of the pure blue sky,
Moscow's eminence is something I can't deny...
though sixteen hundred churches, nearby and afar,
all gaily laugh at the hubris of the Tsars.
8
Moscow, what a vast
uncouth hostel of a home!
In Russia all are homeless
so all to you must come.
A knife stuck in each boot-top,
each back with its shameful brand,
we heard you from far away.
You called us: here we stand.
Because you branded us criminals
for every known kind of ill,
we seek the all-compassionate Saint,
the haloed one who heals.
And there behind that narrow door
where the uncouth rabble pour,
we seek the red-gold radiant heart
of Iver, who loved the poor.
Now, as "Halleluiah" floods
bright fields that blaze to the west,
O sacred Russian soil,
I kneel here to kiss your breast!
###
Insomnia
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
2
In my enormous city it is night
as from my house I step beyond the light;
some people think I'm daughter, mistress, wife...
but I am like the blackest thought of night.
July's wind sweeps a way for me to stray
toward soft music faintly blowing, somewhere.
The wind may blow until bright dawn, new day,
but will my heart in its rib-cage really care?
Black poplars brushing windows filled with light...
strange leaves in hand... faint music from distant towers...
retracing my steps, there's nobody lagging behind...
This shadow called me? There's nobody here to find.
The lights are like golden beads on invisible threads...
the taste of dark night in my mouth is a bitter leaf...
O, free me from shackles of being myself by day!
Friends, please understand: I'm only a dreamlike belief.
###
Poems for Akhmatova
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
4
You outshine everything, even the sun
at its zenith. The stars are yours!
If only I could sweep like the wind
through some unbarred door,
gratefully, to where you are...
to hesitantly stammer, suddenly shy,
lowering my eyes before you, my lovely mistress,
petulant, chastened, overcome by tears,
as a child sobs to receive forgiveness...
###
This gypsy passion of parting!
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
This gypsy passion of parting!
We meet, and are ready for flight!
I rest my dazed head in my hands,
and think, staring into the night...
that no one, perusing our letters,
will ever understand the real depth
of just how sacrilegious we were,
which is to say we had faith,
in ourselves.
###
The Appointment
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I will be late for the appointed meeting.
When I arrive, my hair will be gray,
because I abused spring.
And your expectations were much too high!
I shall feel the effects of the bitter mercury for years.
(Ophelia tasted, but didn't spit out, the rue.)
I will trudge across mountains and deserts,
trampling souls and hands without flinching,
living on, as the earth continues
with blood in every thicket and creek.
But always Ophelia's pallid face will peer out
from between the grasses bordering each stream.
She took a swig of passion, only to fill her mouth
with silt. Like a shaft of light on metal,
I set my sights on you, highly. Much too high
in the sky, where I have appointed my dust its burial.
###
Rails
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The railway bed's steel-blue parallel tracks
are ruled out, neatly as musical staves.
Over them, people are transported
like possessed Pushkin creatures
whose song has been silenced.
See them: arriving, departing?
And yet they still linger,
the note of their pain remaining...
always rising higher than love, as the poles freeze
to the embankment, like Lot's wife transformed to salt, forever.
Despair has arranged my fate
as someone arranges a wedding;
then, like a voiceless Sappho
I must weep like a pain-wracked seamstress
with the mute lament of a marsh heron!
Then the departing train
will hoot above the sleepers
as its wheels slice them to ribbons.
In my eye the colors blur
to a glowing but meaningless red.
All young women, at times,
are tempted by such a bed!
###
Every Poem is a Child of Love
by Marina Tsvetaeva
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Every poem is a child of love,
A destitute ******* chick
A fledgling blown down from the heights above―
Left of its nest? Not a stick.
Each heart has its gulf and its bridge.
Each heart has its blessings and griefs.
Who is the father? A liege?
Maybe a liege, or a thief.
Keywords/Tags: Marina Tsvetaeva, Russia, Russian, translation, Akhmatova, Moscow, Tsar, poet, poetess, poets, poetry, lovers, generals, truth, earth, stars, life, death, grave
May 28, 2020
May 28, 2020 at 2:46 AM UTC
There is no more first- class lady than Sally in
“The third watch”, the actor Sudduth (1)
Didn’t let one down, Daniel (2) and Bosco (3) at once if
You like they are ready to be in SWAT!
And now about the Police of Chicago—
How charismatic is Henry Voight (4),
As I see it the film is the super- saga,
Leroy (5), Dawson, Olinsky, Atwater (6)
Lived in this state, I’ll admire as Kevin: “Yow, Bro!”
This film is more smart than “Harry Potter”,
Kim and Erin (7) are better than Monroe (8).
“Southland” is also full of copes
They would serve as examples to ours
(This film placed itself at the head of TOPs):
Shawn, Regina, Lucy, Salinger—at last.
{2019}
(1) Skipp Sudduth (born in 1956)
(2) Coby Bell (born in 1975) acts Davis in the serial “The third watch”.
(3) Jason Wiles takes Davis’ part.
(4) The actor Jason Bex in Henry’s role.
(5) Leroy Brown is from Croce’s song “Bad, bad Leroy Brown”.
(6) John Seda (born in 1970) is in Antonio Dawson’s role; Elias Koteas is in Elwin Olinsky’s role and La Royce Hawkins (born in 1988) is in Kevin Atwater’s role.
(7) Marina Squerciati (born in 1984) is in Kim Burgess’ role and Sophia Bush (born in 1984) is in Erin Lindsay’s role.
(8) Marilyn Monroe (1926- 1962).
(9) Shawn Hatosy (born in 1975) is in the detective Sammy’s role, Regina King (born in 1971) is in Lydia Adams’ role, Luci Liu (born in 1968) is in the role of the policewoman Jessica and Michael MacGrady (born in 1960) is in Daniel Salinger’s role.
* * *
Посвящается актёрам сериалов
«Третья смена», «Южная
территория», «Полиция Чикаго»
Нет класснее Салли в «Третьей смене» –
Ведь не подкачал актёр Саддат(1)!
Дэвиса(2) и Боско(3) не заменят –
Хоть сейчас они готовы в SWAT!
А теперь – к «Полиции Чикаго» –
Как харизматичен Генри Войт(4)!
Этот фильм, по-моему, супер-сага:
В этом штате в песне жил Лерой(5)!
Доусон, Олински и Этуотер(6) –
Восхищусь как Кевин: «Йоу, Бро!» –
Лучше этот фильм, чем «Гарри Поттер»,
Ким и Эрин(7) круче, чем Монро(8)!
В «Саутленде» тоже много копов,
Кто пошли бы нынешним в пример
(Этот фильм возглавил списки ТОПов):
Шон, Реджина, Люси, Салингер(9)!
{10.04.2019}
1.Скипп Саддат (р. 1956);
2. Роль Дэвиса в сериале «Третья смена» исполняет Коби Белл
(р. 1975);
3. Роль патрульного Боско играет Джейсон Уайлз (р. 1970);
4. Роль Генри «Хэнка» Войта исполняет актёр Джейсон Бех (р.
1960);
5. Лерой Браун из песни Джима Крока «Bad, Bad Leroy Brown»;
6. Джон Седа (р. 1970) в роли Антонио Доусона, Элиас Котеас
(р. 1961) в роли Элвина Олински и Ларойс Хоукинс (р. 1988) в роли
Кевина Этуотера;
7. Марина Скверсьяти (р. 1984) в роли Ким Бёрджес и София
Буш (р. 1984) в роли Эрин Линдсей;
8. Мэрилин Монро (1926 – 1962 гг.);
9. Шон Хэтоси (р. 1975) в роли детектива Сэмми, Реджина Кинг
(р. 1971) в роли Лидии Адамс, Люси Лью (р. 1968) в роли полицейского
Джессики и Майкл МакГрэйди (р. 1960) в роли Дэниэла Салингера.
May 15, 2020
May 15, 2020 at 7:06 AM UTC
It’s morning! Finally morning on the even ebb of eve.
The tides! The marina’s tides are thick like wicker’s weave.
What sand has shifted? What news from Diego’s dawn?
From covers; the bark of seals sing like a bay yacht’s yawn.
Dinghy docks and pristine clamor; now I hear the bells!
No, not the toll it takes, but just the charm it spells.
I orient, I wake. I’m quick to smile; the sun follows suit.
Searching south; the daily buzz on right, and left: a bay that’s mute.
But the sound’s not snuffed, you see, motors have plenty to spare.
Because whether or not you knew or noticed, the navy never seems to care.
Compelled and called from my fruitful rest; muesli munched with jams.
These charts and graphs I take with me while I brew my grind of grams.
Feb 20, 2020
Feb 20, 2020 at 12:45 PM UTC
(noun)
--A dock in the sea at which boats may anchor
That's the definition Google gave
But if you ask me,
Google doesn't know ****
Because no matter how many pages
I've searched
Or links that I've clicked
Google can never tell me how many times
you've made me laugh
more genuinely
than I thought myself capable
No algorithm can pinpoint
how many hours we spent on that
front porch swing
covered by empty Barefoot bottles
letting our heels sink in awe
of the world we had in front of us
Trust me that no "I'm Feeling Lucky" button
could ever lead me up the steps of
that little apartment
where i learned that your
dollar store pasta,
simple as it may,
will always be my favorite
And may it
not by God or some invisible hand
be the reason i believe in fate
You.
Always my North Star,
together you and I make
a really ****** compass.
But then again we've never held
trust to anything but our guts
to tell us we are
heading in the right directions.
And so many directions we have taken,
to think all the conversations
we've held about
the places we'd end up
were just the billboards
we didn't know we were passing
Okay--maybe Google's definition wasn't so far off then.
You my friend are more than just a season
You are the life, and the warmth, and the beauty
of our favorite June night
even in the dead of winter
The fog on the windows of your house
are reminders of every breath that has escaped you, every
breath you'll never be able to catch
every breath you have stolen
Enough to heat a home.
So i know that no matter how rough the waters
or smooth my ocean's floor,
I, my lonely ship,
know I can always have a place to anchor
Marina.
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 5:45 PM UTC
I’m laying in bed, eating a pizza slice
Wearing my dark flower robe.
My headphones are pumping
Teen Idle
(Marina and the Diamonds)
So funny, when my mother knocks
“I’ve been calling you,”
She says.
I realize now it’s come full circle
I’m able to be a teen again.
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 4:48 PM UTC
love will never be forever, feelings are just like the weather, January to December, do you want to be a member? Lonely hearts club, do you want to be with, somebody like me, oh?
Jan 30, 2016
Jan 30, 2016 at 1:09 AM UTC
Bare feet on beach
nature's love to reach
Sands caress the feet
Life's curing street
Bare feet on beach
Peace in heart doth teach
Nature's lessons to preach
Yet to humans doth it reach
Plastic bags tangle thy feet
Stench of waste nature's defeat
Broken glass dangers seat
Oh Tis life's defeat
Useless thrown to waste
Let not be in haste
For waste doth not fade in haste
Let Tis not be nature's fate
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 11:09 AM UTC
If beauty is skin deep,
the secrets that you keep
show all your pains
like the blue of your veins.
Salt tears to the ocean.
You hide your emotion.
He's already gone,
let him fade with the dawn.
These secrets and lies
haven't been very wise,
you broke everyone's hearts
trying to keep them apart.
The things you avoid,
see all that they destroyed.
Ruined life with your death,
took the air from his breath.
Feb 5, 2013
Feb 5, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
sails like blankets
thrown awry,
float with
idle paseé.
wind whips wrinkles
for pioneers,
chaos and crinkles
make our worst fears.
wakes speed time
like a blitzed motor,
whils't the sun burns
blackened otters.
sunsets brush the
beauty away,
highlights fade
and darken grey.
birds fish
the waters va-
cate your hovel
and meet us for café.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 9:38 PM UTC