Near is the meek image of the dark chapel
Where the organ does weep!
Alien to me is earthly joy.
I'm Angelique.

Quiet singing in unison sounds,
Unclear are the windows, it seems,
Elegant vaults have taken control
Of my life like dreams.

My sight in childhood slipped away there,
It's tormented by the towns.
Talk and the shining hall bore me indeed
And the world wears me down.

Someone lit candles before the Virgin.
(Does the sick healing await?)
This is the reason I'm silent midst you:
I'm different all the way.

Sweet is the weakness of arms relaxed,
Light to me here is all woe.
Dark-leafed ivy, as if they were friends
Embraced the stones;

Grass has blossomed here all the way
Like almond, white and pink...
I need no joy. I don't pity the world:
I'm Angelique.

By Marina Tsvetayeva
Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat

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