...Polished by tears...Maria Tsvetaeva

  from “Poems for Moscow”

By Marina Tsvetaeva 1892–1941 Marina Tsvetaeva

New versions from the Russian by Ilya Kaminsky and Jean Valentine

From my hands—take this city not made by hands,

my strange, my beautiful brother.

Take it, church by church—all forty times forty churches,

and flying up the roofs, the small pigeons;

And Spassky Gates—and gates, and gates—

where the Orthodox take off their hats;

And the Chapel of Stars—refuge chapel—

where the floor is—polished by tears;

Take the circle of the five cathedrals,

my coal, my soul; the domes wash us in their darkgold,

And on your shoulders, from the red clouds,

the Mother of God will drop her own thin coat,

And you will rise, happened of wonderpowers

—never ashamed you loved me.

March 31, 1916

This poem leaped up on the Poetry Foundation page, when I was searching for poems for my writing course. Since I have just sent a packet to my "Russian daughter", it seemed to return to me, the Russian spirit and my love of the Russian friends, who remain there...and in my heart.