From: ibshambat@gmail.com   
      
   You walk, looking just like me,   
   Lowering your eyes.   
   I lowered them also!   
   Stop, passerby!   
      
   Read - having gathered a bouquet   
   Of many flowers -   
   That my name was Marina   
   And how old I was.   
      
   Don't think I'll appear with menace,   
   That a grave here is hidden..   
   I loved to laugh too much   
   When it was forbidden.   
      
   And blood to the skin was rushing,   
   And twisted, the curls of my hair..   
   I once was too, passerby!   
   Passerby, stop and stare!   
      
   Tear off for yourself a wild stem   
   And thereafter a berry:   
   There are no strawberries sweeter   
   Or bigger than at cemetery.   
      
   But only don't grimly stand there,   
   On the chest lowering your head.   
   Lightly about me remember,   
   Lightly about me forget.   
      
   How the ray alights you!   
   You're in golden dust dressed..   
   And at my voice from below   
   Do not you be distressed.   
      
   By Marina Tsvetayeva   
   Translated from Russian by Ilya Shambat   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)