The World Behind The Window

 I over-lived long winter.
 The colds passed away
 and now it is time
 of spring.
 For me everything is the same.
 My time swims quietly-quietly
 as if dry wind swims on the waves of pond.
 Strange life ...
 If the heart was not overfilled
 sometimes by pity and pain.
 I would not know
 whether I am alive
 or I dream only about life.
 Four walls surround me.
 They are borders of my world.
 There are borders of my world.
 There behind the window
 I hear other world that makes a noise
 and keeps talking.
  The cars move,
 human voices are heard,
 ringing of trams
 flow into in one trembling sound.
 In the night and in the day
 how noisy is the world
 behind the window.
 But I do not see it.
 Only it is seen the part of ornament
 on the gates
 and poplar from the town garden.
 Through its leaves the star is shining sometimes.
 I saw only patch of the sky in window.
 Now I know that spring is outside
 because nightingale sings from afar.
There is noise of young leaves
 and poplar hides the light of star.
 I knew it was winter
 because snowflakes flickered
 and frost covered window glass
 by silver ornament.
These are all signs of seasons for me.
 I saw love and youth and all the beauty
 of poor human age.
 Everything it was only
 behind the window.

 Lesya Ukrainka

 Translation and Photography by Igor Marinovsky