My loyal, reliable writing table,
I thank you dearly for being able,
Having yielded the tree trunk to be
A table, to stay – as a living tree.
With swaying leaves and the branch’s arc
Overhead, with the living bark,
With the sap tearing down the face,
And with roots to the earth’s base!
July 17, 1933
By Marina Tsvetaeva
Translation by Andrey Kneller
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