Двери Тамерлана [Dveri Tamerlana] [English translation]

Young moon wanders

In steppe azure,

White hoof length mane,

A bridle of gold.

A silver chime

Of Mongolian stirrups -

Born in winds,

Spiced in downpours.

From a jug, over the edge,

The milk pours into the sky;

Sleep, my darling, fall asleep,

Tomorrow you ride far.

You sought for a dawn -

And left with no wound,

Wasn't I kissed

Only by you?

By Tamerlane's door

The grass grew tall;

Am I not your arrow,

Am I not your bowstring?

You are fire's heart,

You are banners' song,

You shall leave me behind,

Bewitched by the steppes,

By wagons of moons -

For a mist of a road,

A celestial herd,

A heavy quiver;

A foreign arrow,

A moon halved in half,

Wormwood and ash -

Are your lot, Tamerlane.

You're to ruffle spear grass

On alien shores,

To become icy gold

Within a high mound.

And I'm to embroider

Olive linen,

To drop the tears

Of silver chime;

To the ring of bonfire

Eternally true -

Not a sister to you,

Nor a wife to you.

• Artist:Melnitsa