Arseny Tarkovsky: Our table's set for six

Our table's set for six,
Roses, crystal gloss.
Among guests, there are, amiss,
Sorrow and loss.

Here comes father from the past,
Brother comes as well.
Clocks have struck again. At last  --
Ding – there rings the bell.

And the hand is just as cold
As 'twas twelve years back,
And unfashionable folds
Shine in silky black.

And the clinking glasses chant
In the murky glow:
“How much we loved you, and
How long ago!”

Smiling, we embrace with dad,
Brother serves us wine,
And she says, her hand unwed
Gently touching mine:

-- “Ah, my heels are all in mold,
And my braid has paled.
From the underground vault
Our voices wailed.”



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