From: ibshambat@gmail.com   
      
   The demon in me   
   Is not dead but lives!   
   In self like in jail   
   In body like in bilge.   
      
   Exit is axe   
   From the world that is walls   
   (An actor mumbles,   
   "A stage is the world.")   
      
   And lump-legged jester   
   Did not act sly.   
   In body - like in glory.   
   Like in toga - in body.   
      
   Many a year!   
   Hold dear that you're alive!   
   (Only the poets   
   In bone - like in lie!)   
      
   We won't make merry,   
   Singing brothers,   
   In body like in cotton   
   Gown of a father.   
      
   We cost the better.   
   In heat we wilt.   
   In body - like in stall.   
   In self - like in a pot.   
      
   Transitory magnificence   
   We do not hold.   
   In body - like in morass,   
   In body - like in vault,   
      
   In body - like in extreme   
   Exile. - Wilt!   
   In body - like in secret,   
   In temples - like in a grip   
      
   Of an iron mask.   
      
   By Marina Tsvetayeva   
   Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat   
   http://lib.ru/POEZIQ/CWETAEWA/sbornik_engl.txt   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)