DARK ELDERBERRY BRANCH: POEMS OF MARINA TSVETAEVABy Marina Tsvetaeva
"A poet of genius."—Vladimir Nabokov Via what Ilya Kaminsky and Jean Valentine call "readings"—not translations—of fragments of Marina Tsvetaeva's poems and prose, Tsvetaeva's lyrical genius is made accessible and poignant to a new generation of readers. By juxtaposing fragments of her poems with short pieces of prose, we begin to know her as poet, friend, enemy, woman, lover, and revolutionary. From "Poems for Moscow (2)": 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 over them, the small pigeons; And Spassky Gates—in their flower— 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 soul, my holy friend.