The Sentence

And the stone word

On my still-living breast.

Never mind,

I was ready.

I will manage somehow.

Today I have so much to do:

I must kill memory once and for all,

I must turn my soul to stone,

I must learn to live again—Unless . . .

Summer's ardent

Is like a festival outside my window.

For a long time I've foreseen

Brilliant day, deserted house.

Translated from the Russian by Judith Hemschemeyer