[Tamila]

I like her work .

Add one more poem by Boris Pasternak


In memory of Marina Tsvetaeva

I also still difficult to
Imagine you died ,
How skopidomkoy milonershey
Amid the hungry sisters.

What do you me to please ?
Give something like this news.
In the silence of your departure
Unspoken reproach is.

Always mysterious loss.
In fruitless search for a response
I am suffering with no result :
In death there is no outline .

Everything is - hint and shadow
Slips of the tongue and self-deception ,
And the only faith on Sunday
Some index data .

Winter - a lavish funeral :
Out to leave the shelter,
Add to dusk currants ,
Pour the wine - that's kutya .

Before the house of apple in a snow drift .
And the city in the snowy shroud -
Your vast tomb ,
As a whole year seemed to me .

Person to turn to God ,
You pull him off the ground,
As in the days when you total
More on it did not disappoint .

1943