Bella Akhmadulina

Oh, trees! You are brothers of mine.
‘Twas dark’ning, but my eyes defined, 
For sure – to the heaven, so starry –
That you, for your night rest, have hurried,
Like someone – a farmer, a sailor – 
Who’s tired of his heavy labor.
Away, in the morn I shall go,
But, ere that, leave you my all store: 
The star, the sunrise, and the snow –
Which life has me kindly bestowed.
I thank you, my brotherly wizards,
For sedative songs of your blizzards,
For leafage’s rustle and cool hue,
For that I shall – before you…


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, June 6, 2001