Mikhail Kuzmin

What utter happiness is it to be forsaken!
What heaven's light can one see in the past! – 
Like when cold winter after summer breaks in,
We dream of sun that long ago left us.

A dried flower, a bundle of lover’s letters,
Few happy dates, a light of smiling eyes, -- 
And tho’ your path be now dark and helpless,
But in last spring you’ve trodden the fresh grass.

There is another kind of the love passions’ lore 
Another path, deserted one and great, 
‘To be forsaken’ – what could be wished more?
To be unloved – that is the awful fate!   


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, November, 2000