Nina Gorsky

If you wish to kill me, do that!
But pray, my God, a little wait…

Wait for the sake of the sun ringing,
the golden butterfly’s light winging,
the note of the nightingale,
the burdock by the cool alley,
the grove where the orange grows,
the stars in skies, the flames of roses,
the gloomy singular pine-tree,
the wave that’s so pearl and free,
the lips red as a ripened cherry,
the eyes so clear, large and fairy…

I pray you, dear Lord, just wait!
But if you’d want to kill – do that


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, December, 2002