Four Poems: “Song of the White Lilac” (1934), “Violets” (1934), “I Am the White Lilac” (1934), and “Moonlit” (1938)

Translated from the Russian by Bita Takrimi

Song of the White Lilac

Grant me the joy of a tender greeting,
Crown my hair with your wreath today!
– On the blooming day of summer’s meeting,
The white lilac began its bright display.

I crave the warmth of your endless caresses,
In the sultry length of a sun-drenched day!
– At sunset’s hour, with its scented excesses,
The white lilac’s fragrance stole my breath away.

When the day fades, I’ll vanish once more,
Into the night, a shadow in the fray…
– In dreams of a golden sky of yore,
The white lilac quietly passed away.

Violets

In this age of boundless greed,
Where Darwin’s laws drive every deed,
The battle never ends.
They say without loud advertisement,
Even in the Dalai Lama’s land,
Your work will find no friends.

Doctors send their ads to print,
Young poets showcase their portraits—hint, hint:
“The rising literary star!”
And writers, the more ambitious breed,
Dream of posing side by side
With Gorky on a postcard.

The prima donna dreams with zest:
“Should I recklessly squander gold and rest?
Or make a scene so grand—
Poisoned by a watermelon’s bite,
Or captured by Hunhuz in the night,
To make my fame expand?”

Such dreams, they plague almost all,
But not the lawyers—they alone withdraw,
Aloof from the common fray.
Like violets, shy and modest they hide,
In the shadows, where their pride
Keeps them far away.

The bureaucrat craves his rank,
The minor clerk desires the same clout to bank,
And the noble seeks old honors afar.
But lawyers? Only payment draws their gaze,
The glitter and ring of coins amaze—
That’s their guiding star!

Foreign unions tempt them still,
To join their ranks, bestowing will
And promises of fame.
“Fame—a gaudy patch to flaunt!” they cry.
Where on a lawyer’s coat and tie
Is there room for such acclaim?

Foreign alliances breed dismay,
Confusing those who stray their way—
A public list they’ll send!
Poisoning with “transparency”
The sacred name’s virginity—
A blemish without end!

Such customs aren’t for us to know!
Worse than vile poison, we shun their show—
Publicity we despise!
Back away, foreigners! Let us keep
The blush of modesty on our cheeks,
Untarnished in our eyes!

I Am the White Lilac

I am the white lilac. My flowers linger slow,
Their silver-naked blossoms hold the air in thrall.
Some will scatter, and others will unfold,
Intoxicating the earth with their fragrance’s call.

I am thousands of blooms in seamless harmony,
Each petal a link in a single chain of bonds.
My white hue—the blending of all colors beyond,
And the poisons of all toxins—my perfumed ecstasy.

Between earth and sky, a translucent shadow of light,
A white flame, I burn without fire, without sound…
Born of the sun, I perish in its golden crown.
I am the life of life! I am the white lilac’s might!

Moonlit

I cannot spend this night with you!
The pale blue moon has called me to rendezvous.
I swore to him, I promised I’d come.
I cannot spend this night with you, my love!
No, stop! Don’t kiss me! Don’t torment me so!
See—the silver beam strikes through the window.
As soon as the moon’s pale face looks down on us,
You’ll feel distant, a stranger, in that moment’s thrust.

I’ll run to the window… I’ll fling it wide…
Stretch out my arms, my whole self to his tide…
And the pale moon mist will envelop me whole,
A silver ring coiling around my soul.
He’ll glide over my shoulders, caress my hair,
Tremble on my lashes with kisses rare…
He’ll awaken my soul, like a nocturnal bloom,
To the ecstasy and anguish of impossible dreams.

I’ll search for happiness in the restless, aching glow
Of beauty entwined with sin’s dual flow,
Dying endlessly… to the end I’ll fade,
Drinking moonlight’s quiver, like a kiss softly laid.
So stop! Don’t torment me with futile pleas!
I cannot spend this night with you, you see!