This dimness. The mirror is like in a daze. The faces around are not even seen. And couples are tired of whirling in dance... Before itís all over, I will still sing. All of the notes were played and forgotten. A wine in the glass lost its fire and shine. The burning desire to speak is gone. And now itís better just to finish my wine. For a half-year we havenít been seen the sun. And souls are frozen deep under the ice. Most likely, I hope for ice-drift for nothing. The memory canít melt this cold inside. All of the notes were played and forgotten. A wine in the glass lost its fire and shine. The burning desire to speak is gone. And now itís better just to finish my wine. The orchestra is tired and stumbles at times. The circle is closing in. I canít stop it, it seems! But I am still calm. I should leave with a smile... Before itís all over, I will still sing. All of the notes were played and forgotten. A wine in the glass lost its fire and shine. The mirrors grin, at last, is broken. Or, maybe, to break it this time?.. The glass.
© Alexandra Shamarova. Translation, 2017