A Shadow
You swim up from the past, of all our set
the one most rosy, elegant, and tall.
Any your transparent profile -- how it sways
through carriage windows! Why does memory insist?
Angel or bird -- we argued which you were.
The poet said you were his girl of straw.
Through the black lashes of your Georgian eyes
Affection flowed on everyone around.
O shadow! Forgive me, but the clement weather,
Flaubert, insomnia, the smell of lilacs
have turned my thoughts to you, as if that day
could bloom again, cloudless and languishing . . .
your day, beauty of the year '13.
But I am troubled by such memories,
O shadow!
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