Translated from the Russian by Andrey Gritsman
THERE IS NOTHING ELSE SO FINE…
There is nothing else so fine and free
as to break up for good with a beloved
and leave the railroad station all alone.
And then in front of you entirely new
the palaces of Venice would reappear.
You linger on the stairs and then go on
take a gondola. As you approach the Rialto
you breathe in freely smells of fish,
rancid butter, and stale vegetables
and recall without a regret that her train
has probably already passed Mestre.
Then walk into a banco lotto shop
and bet on seven, fourteen, and forty.
Walk down to Mertcheria and dine
with a bottle of Valpolicella. At nine
you change and show up at piazza
and, listening to the magic overture
from the Tannhäuser, think, “By now
she must have passed Pontebba.” How free!
Your heart feels now new and slightly bitter.
| Current Issue |
| Where to Buy | Links
| Contact us | Archives
© 2003-2005 Ars Interpres Publications.