Snowfall (from Yulia Bogdanova)
(translated from Russian by K. Bulkin & A. Gorodnichy)

Not to point at all
fingers hurry in fuss,
knock against the neck
of the jingling guitar.
That's the snowfall. Snow... Fall...
Snowfall for two of us.
Snowfall covers all tracks,
and the pier, and the yard.

Like a wide river wave
lulled by silence in ice,
in a melodic voice
pure speech flows by.
We've been missing to save
something in our lives,
used to take our time,
used to saying goodbye.

Simple thing - just a word
but sometimes it can heal.
And sometimes tender looks
shine, as bright as a star...
I was kissing you. Where?
Over there, behind the hills.
I was close to you. When?
When the snowfall was far.

But the snowfall (Snow... Fall...)
covers buildings and hearts
and the beckoning sounds
which die down at last.
Someone's wandering, lost
in the darkness of nigts -
finding out the future,
looking out for the past.

They appear in the silence -
lines by heart, just a few,
like a gentle white snow,
fallen down from the sky...
That is longing for me,
that is longing for you,
and for us in the past,
and for something passed by.

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