Your fabulous enunciation -
Hot whistling of a bird of prey -
Creates a true representation
Of silken eyelashes, I say.

"What" -- and the head has fallen
"Why" -- I am asking you
And far away the leaves are calling:
We live upon this planet too.

So let them say that love is winged -
More winged hundred times is death.
The soul is striving and with vigor,
Our lips fly toward it with each breath.

And in your whisper, so much silk,
And so much air, and so much light,
That as if blinded we both drink
The sunless brew of windy night.

By Osip Mandelshtam
Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat
More at https://sites.google.com/site/ibshambat

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