… toward morning around seven
when a strip of light under the doors
was redder than the Petersburg
Arrow*
maybe you will read me
at a glance—
snow
acrid clover
dark grapes
idly you think you lived
like a butterfly which
the admiralty spire reached burned through
that it’s past seven and there’s no sense
in going to bed
it’s late and thank god
life has passed
that everything will happen after
that wings wither under glass
although they’re far more visible because of it
that I was the amusing specimen
in your collection
that I was …
Translated by Daniel Weissbort
* An express train between Moscow and Petersburg (authors note).
Author’s note: It perhaps goes without saying that fanciers should not ignore the less striking species, especially smaller butterflies, the study of which lags behind that of large squamous winged creatures.