This melody of mine gives me away,
every single note s makes my heart bleed in pain,
this old piano does not conceal me,
and it brings me to a dreary dreaming,
of harrowful feelings that refuse to move away.
My fingers slide up and down the keys,
and with them bunches of thornful memories which won’t flee,
for they have resided permanently within me,
and they make me stand in front of your ghost,
beholding a beauty long time ago gone.
My mind mounts itself in waves of tears,
tears accompanied with a wailing moon in fear,
yet the melody will not stop embracing my soul,
such egoist melody that pierces my soul in utter awe,
for this one has been in turmoil ever since you gone.
What is there left for this soul of mine,
whose goblet is full to the brim with the world’s lies,
and encounters that sorrow has been side by side,
tormenting this existence with bitter cries,
that fill the nights of rainy times.
Sorrow is the melody that plays along with me tonight,
and opens my heart to the dark sky,
that sky that is overhung with a pale moon that seems to cry,
gilded with silver tears that she casts away tonight,
for she is also my silent witness of this endeavour that I call life.
An echo of a long time gone love is swiftly heard,
and it carries that reminiscence of joy but nothing else,
but what a cumbersome task it seems to be,
for it is dead and is bound to be forgotten and into oblivion it shall be free,
and within it fly away tirelessly and reach the embrace of eternity.
This saddened melody starks my soul,
and the raiment is nothing else but this relentless sorrow of old,
who raises its glass with a callous promise,
which I have heard and realised that promise is lonely,
but then I know I shall not judge and drink from my empty goblet.
RQ, Moscow, 5.1.11
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