Saturday Poem: ‘The Poems Mine…’ by Marina Tsvetaeva

The poems mine, created early, so
That I hadn't known, I'm a poet, yet
And dropped, as drops from fountains' flows,
As sparkles from jets,

As little imps, that suddenly braked through in
The dreamy sanctuary, where an incest roams,
The poems mine, about youth and ruin,
Unread my poems! 

Dispersed in shops and set in dusty foams,
Despised by readers, silent and forlorn,
As costly wines, my deeply buried poems
Will have their turn.

One thought on “Saturday Poem: ‘The Poems Mine…’ by Marina Tsvetaeva

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s