N
Oh, how high your brow ripe with laurus
ascends above the literary world!
Your multilingual bottomless thesaurus
is full of diamonds, emeralds and gold.
I'm sorting through these treasures in the shadow
of your memorial chosen by the birds:
the butterflies, the motherland, the meadow
as green as youth, the chess, the rhymes, the words.
Oh, those words! The words? It would be better
to call them spells, the spells I haven't yet
defeated. This is why the every letter
of me is soaked in your magic sweat.
They say, I am possessed by you. That day
I came into the world, you went away.
Dedicated to the memory of my favorite writer, Vladimir Nabokov.
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