Love is a causelessness. Thoughtlessness even. To love for a reason? I love for I feel. Love is like a troika, demented and rabid, Rushing toward a ship that is leaving to sail. Where to? Does not matter. I like aimless journeys. Magnolias blooming... Wandering ice... Fly onward, my troika, in path of a snowstorm, Where my ship gets ready for watery flight. Stomp out, my dear troika, discretion and reason, Smoke with a fire, flaming, foaming and white! What for? For no reason - my heart's drunk with freedom From reason. The ship leaves. On it I'll take flight. By Igor Severyanin Translated by Ilya Shambat https://sites.google.com/site/ibshambat
