The second travel
By Marina Tsvetaeva
1910
There’s no any way back. It’s late now.
Whether it is bad, whether you are fearsome and dark, well,
Open a door desired,
Show us the rooms cherished.
The torch is red in the hands of a Negro.
And the hands of light ripple in zig-zags…
Isn’t that Kleopatra in pearls?
Or Loreleya with the Reign’s sagas?
Perhaps… – Haste it to open
With the secret sign of a silver wand! –
Are there the mother-tears’ fountains?
In the free plaits of a mermaid?
Ones, who don’t wish to sleep –
How they are miserable, homeless, true!
Please, let us look into your soul deep –
In that violet and cloudy room!
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