Notes + Text - All About Love
Poem
by Marina Tsvetaeva
Where does this tenderness come from?
These are not the-first curls I
Have stroked slowly-and lips I
Have known are-darker than yours
As stars rise often and go out again
(where does this tenderness come from?)
so many eyes have risen and died out
in front of these eyes of mine.
And yet no such song have
I heard in the darkness of night before,
(where does this tenderness come from?):
here, on the ribs of the singer.
Where does this tenderness come from?
And what shall I do with it, young
Sly singer, just passing by?
Your lashes are—longer than anyone’s
Otkuda takaya nyezhnost’?
Nye perviye—eti kudri
Razglazhivayu, i, gubi
Znavala—temnyey tvoyikh
Vskhodili i gasli zvyozdi
Otkuda takaya neyzhnost’
Vskhodili i gasli ochi
U samikh moyikh ochey.
Yeshcho ne takiye pyesni
Ya slushala nochyu tyemnoi,
Otkyda takaya nyezhnost’
Na samoy grudi pevtsa
Otkuda takaya nyezhnost’
I shto snyeyu dyelat’, otrok
Pukavii, pevetz zakhozhii
Srecnitsami—nyet dlinyey
David Schiff's Version:
Where is this tenderness coming from?
Your curls—are not the first ones I’ve played with
Your lips—I’ve known darker ones
The stars shine brightly then fade away
Where is this tenderness coming from?
Your eyes shine brightly then fade away—
Your eyes—when they’re facing mine
I’ve never heard such songs before
In the depths of the night
Where is this tenderness coming from?
My poet—let me lie by your side
Where is this tenderness coming from?
Tell me, what can I do?
My sly wandering troubadour
No one has lashes like yours.
