Nina Gorsky

Like oceans, my tears are sore,
when early in spring you’re sighing,
I’ll ne’er meet you any more,
as you’ll ne’er meet me, my darling.

I can die from my greatest woe,
when you’re passing by in a distance,
I’ll ne’er meet you any more,
as you me through all existence.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, December, 2002