By Osip Mandelshtam

(1914)

O sorrow, with a sidelong glance

Upon indifferent souls she spies;

Her shawl — in pseudo-classic style —

From shoulders slipping, turns to stone.

 

A prophet’s voice — a bitter wine —

The spirit's every core detangles:

Just so, all Phaedra-like, in anger,

Rachelle stood once upon a time.