Vadim Shefner

The love of former days – a signal from wherever,
A speck of sand that sleeps in ocean’s gulfs,
A rainbow’s beam caught by a trap of glass…
A sign of days that gone – the marvel that was never.
Not very oft recall I for a past.
By Morse Code of the dripping snow
Another April to my mind you show,
Sometimes, you flesh in someone’s running line…
You’re on background, distant and retired,
The snowflake, has flown through the fire
And now melting on the cheek of mine.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, April, 2001