![]() As a lyrical poet, her passion and daring linguistic experimentation mark her as a striking chronicler of her times and the depths of the human condition. Tsvetaeva left Russia in 1922 returning to Moscow in 1939. She lived through, and wrote of, the Russian Revolution of 1917 and the Moscow famine that followed it. The poetry of Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva (1892–1941) is considered among some of the greatest in twentieth-century Russian literature. Thanks to Veronika Bowker for making this special selection for The Russian Riveter. Some of these poems were previously published in Modern Poetry in Translation. ![]() Translated by Moniza Alvi and Veronika Krasnova Precisely where I don’t fit in (don’t try to)Įverywhere is alien, every church is empty. Their tears flow – what a relief it must beīlinded by light – she couldn’t look back. Its wave curving like a swimmer’s shoulder? ![]() Or is the stream hurrying to keep up with me, Rippling over the unfeeling stones, singing their praises. I glimpse my heart reflected in the water.Īm I following the stream, or is it following me? ![]()
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