CLOUDS

by Marina Tsvetaeva
Translated from Russian by Mary White

 

1

Broken up—as after a battle
The heavens lie loosened.
The heavens—in furrows.
The embattled heavens.

In migration—as if driven
In driven herds.
The herds—of a shining
Widowed moon.

2

Wait!  Isn’t that Phaedra’s cloak
Under the sky?  Aren’t those Phaedra’s
Who soared into these marathons,
These rushing heavens!

Wait!  Isn’t that Herodias fornicating—
With a forelock . . . Isn’t that a tambourine
That soared on the trumpets of Jericho,
Into these bursting heavens!

3

No!  A standing wave!
Sank—and proved the prophet right!
A di—vided wave:
The whole sea—in two!

Bea—rds and manes
Moving through the Red Sea!
No!—this—is Judith—with
The head of Holofernes!

May 1, 1923

 

 

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