Monday, August 15, 2011


When your face
Appeared over my crumpled life
At first I understood
Only the poverty of what I have

Then its particular light
On woods, on rivers, on the sea
Became my beginning in the coloured world,
In which I had not yet had my beginning

I am so frightened, I am so frightened
Of the unexpected sunrise finishing
Of revelations
And tears and the excitement finishing

I don’t fight it, my love is this fear,
I nourish it who can nourish nothing,
Love’s slipshod watchman
Fear hems me in.

I am conscious that these minutes are short
And that the colours in my eyes will vanish
When your face sets.

Yevgeny Yevtushenko

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