When Flood was over, its receding waters Returned within the limits of the shore, Out of the foam of the retreating torrents True Love emerged and gently came ashore, Then vanished in thin air for a moment, Which lasted forty centuries and more. And wackadoos - such species still exist - Inhale this mixture with their chests like mist. Expecting neither accolades nor beating, And thinking they are breathing just because, They suddenly repeat each beat and pause Of someone else’s inconsistent breathing. But our feelings, like a ship at sea, Stay afloat for quite some time with ease: Till one understands that "I love thee" Is the same as "to exist", "to breathe". There will be journeys, trials in full measure, The Land of Love is such a mighty land! She’ll call her knights and put them under pressure And challenge them with hardships to withstand. She will deprive of comfort, sleep and leisure; Great distances and partings she’ll demand. The madmen, nonetheless, won’t turn away, They’re more than willing to accept and pay The highest price, their lives, the utmost measure To keep from tearing, to preserve instead The magical invisible fine thread That has been stretched between them for their pleasure. The fresh zephyr swept them off their feet, Drunk them dead, then brought them back to life. If you didn’t love, you neither lived Nor you ever breathed or tried to strive! But many can’t be called out any longer: They have been drowned in Love as in a flood. Their tally is conducted by newsmongers, But this sad tally will be made in blood. And we will place our candles on the altars For those who’ve perished trying to be loved. Their voices will become a single tune, Their souls will roam together in the blooms, Inhaling Time with mutual elation, And meeting with a sigh, and holding hands On fragile overpasses, bridges, spans, On all the narrow crossroads of Creation! I’ll fold fields for beds, for lovers’ sake, Let them sing asleep and while awake! I can breathe - it means that I’m in love! I’m in love - it means that I’m alive!
© Kirill Tolmachev. Translation, 2024