..by M. TSVETAEVA
I do not think, or argue, or complain.
Or sleep.
I long for neither sun, nor moon, nor sea.
Nor ship.
I do not feel the heat amidst these walls,
Nor garden's green,
Nor do I long for your desired gift,
Foreseen.
Neither the morning gladdens nor the trolley's
Ring-singing run.
I live, forgetting date and age
And daylight sun.
I am a dancer on a tightrope slashed
And hewn.
I am a shadow's shadow: lunatic
Of two dark moons.