Memorial Candle

I so love the flame
That I kiss it,
I stretch out my hand to it
And wash my face in it.
Tender spirits live
In its flower bud,
A circle of delicate forces
Kings around it.
This is their home,
Their shell, their joy.
Anything else would make
Too crude a place for them.
I burned my hair,
Singed my eyelashes,
T thought you were there,
Trembling in the flame.
Maybe you are trying
To whisper a small word of light to me.
The low flame trembles,
But in me there is only darkness.



Translated from the Russian by Stephanie Sandler