MARINA TSVETAYEVA

Homesickness

Homesickness! Silly fallacy

laid bare so long ago.

It’s all the same where I’m to be

entirely alone —

it’s all the same across what stones

I lug my shopping basket,

towards some house as alien

as a hospital or barracks.

I do not care what faces see

me bristle like a captive lion,

or out of which society

I’m quickly forced into my own

fenced realm of silent feelings.

I’m like an iceless polar bear —

just where I fail to fit (won’t try!)

and am belittled, I don’t care.

My native tongue will not delude

me with its milky call.

I won’t, I can’t be understood

in any tongue at all

by passers-by (voracious eaters

of newspapers, milkers of rumour) —

they’re of the twentieth century,

and me — no time is home to me!

Dumbfounded, like a log that fell

on an abandoned lane,

all is the same to me, all, all

the same, and what has been

most dear to me now matters least.

All signs, all memories and dates

have been erased:

a soul born — any place.

My homeland cared for me so little

that the most clever snoop

could search my soul for birthmarks — he’ll

find nothing with his loupe!

Yes, every house is strange to me

and every temple — barren.

All, all the same. Yet, if I see,

alone along the verge — a rowan…

Translated from Russian by Boris Dralyuk