Писала я на... - перевод М. Цветаевой

I wrote on the devil's board,
And on the leaflets of the faded fans,
And on the river sand, or of the ocean,
With skates on ice, with ring on glass, -

And also on trunks, aged to the hundred winters,
At last, - for everybody's learning! -
That you are loved! loved! loved! loved! really...
I signed with a rainbow's colours over.

How I did wish, that every sign would blossom
During the centuries! under my fingers well!
And later I did bent the table over
With my forehead,and crossed your name...

But you, in hand of the all-selling writer
Clamped! You, the thing that stings my heart!
Unsold by me! that ring inside!
You - will be saved in the tables thus!