Have these tatters, my dear, my cherished,
What was once gentle flesh, now perished.
It was torn apart, battered, and stained, -
These two wings are all that remained.
Dress me up in your splendid majesty.
And have mercy, let me be purged.
Leave the shreds, - decomposed and raggedy, -
In the vestry of the church.
May 13, 1918
By Marina Tsvetaeva
Translation by Andrey Kneller
 In many publications, this poem was included as part two of the cycle "Psyche"
Marina Tsvetaeva >