Russian writer Andrei Voznesensky

From the Window of a Plane

By Andrei Voznesensky

From MOSAIC

In the world of friends, where travel is slower,
What do you do there, in the world of rain?
Who shares the segments of your tangerine?
Which exams do you take again?

Or, mistress, full of the charm of arrogance
Do you toss your head, defiant, solemn,
And run like musical hammers out
Along the railings, among the columns?

O prima donna! do you still play pranks?
Or is it that, chilled, having left your bed
You wander barefoot, nor dare to lift
The receiver, heavy as dumbbells of lead.

I hear you’ve married. Healed, I forget you.
Then why do you freeze as fresh light rain
Over the streaming landscape freezes
Freezes
attentive
the wing of the plane?

—1960

—Translated from the Russian by Rose Styron and Olga Carlisle