I was carrying my Grief, Thin spring ice was underneath. When the ice began to crack - heart sank wearily. To the bottom I went straight, And my Grief, despite her weight, By the shards of ice was saved, held up narrowly. And since that unlucky day, Grief would always come my way. Gossip goes with her as well, as does Whispering. And that I had made it through, Only stripped white willows knew, And the quails, they knew it too, they were listening. Which of them let out the word, Spilled the beans to my dear lord? Someone has betrayed me then, told him everything. Filled with passion to the brim, He set out right after me, And my Grief was at his heels, Rumors lingering. He caught up with me at once, Hugged me, raised me in his arms, But beside his saddle seat, Grief grinned sordidly. Soon enough he had to flee, Only one day he was free, But my Grief stayed here with me for eternity.
Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2023