Wednesday, July 2, 2008

[Untitled] 118

We shall meet again, in Petersburg,
as though we had buried the sun there,
and then we shall pronounce for the first time
the blessed word with no meaning.
In the Soviet night, in the velvet dark,
in the black velvet Void, the loved eyes
of blessed women are still singing,
flowers are blooming that will never die.

--Osip Mandelstam, tr. Clarence Brown and W.S. Merwin