to my mother's memory

Suddenly
I understand I remember your soul
observing in mist far away
slopes now or islands or steps of the silver summits
of a willow grove
peaceful
(and in some way
"from beyond")
and "something" what is it
("magnificence"? "fragrance"
of intimate soul of "purity unspoken"?)
I must be remembering (and even far off in place of the face
I seem to retain in my thoughts
the quietest of hollows — now swirling only with tenderness)
and besides
this is only the flicker of "something" from memory
when the crossings
of beauties "not of this place"
cluster in that youthfulness
where the "eternal" is like orphanhood
(the unseen — awaiting our coming)
1980
Translated from Russian by Peter France