Sweeping snow, on the entire earth,
Without borders.
A candle was burning on the table,
The candle was burning.
Like in the summer, the midges
Fly to the flame,
The flakes of snow
Flung to the window frame.
Snowstorm molded on the frame
Circles and arrows.
A candle was burning on the table
The candle was burning.
On the illuminated ceiling,
Reflected the shadows of
Arms’ crossing, legs’ crossings,
The fate’s crossings.
************
And all was lost in the haze of snow,
Silver and white.
A candle was burning on the table
The candle was burning.
A draught came to the candle from a corner,
And the heat of temptation
Raised like an angel, his two wings
Crossly.
All of February was in the sweeping snow,
And time and again
A candle was burning on the table,
The candle was burning.
1946
This winter night of 1946 created not only the happy love affair between Boris Pasternak and Ol’ga Ivinskaya, but also the terrible double imprisonment of her, secondly, with her young daughter, because the Soviet government was afraid to physically destroy the famous author, only mentally, making him refuse his Nobel prize.
LR, I see the burning candle. The burning candle that burns in so many ways. I just escaped a place that stole all I had and poisoned me. My computer was destroyed there, poems can maybe be retrieved as I still have the broken computer. I am recovering with relatives. Very hard to talk to hearts of sand. I start to slowly forgive as anger is released. Reading the Bible and finding peace therein. Stay SAFE.
This is beautiful, Larisa. Thank you.