Love is a causelessness. Thoughtlessness even.
To love for a reason? I love for I feel.
Love is like a troika, demented and rabid,
Rushing toward a ship that is leaving to sail.
Where to? Does not matter. I like aimless journeys.
Magnolias blooming... Wandering ice...
Fly onward, my troika, in path of a snowstorm,
Where my ship gets ready for watery flight.
Stomp out, my dear troika, discretion and reason,
Smoke with a fire, flaming, foaming and white!
What for? For no reason - my heart's drunk with freedom
From reason. The ship leaves. On it I'll take flight.
By Igor Severyanin
Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat
https://sites.google.com/site/ibshambat
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