never had you such power over me as now

Let me be in your service 

like the others 

mumbling predictions, 

mouth dry with jealousy. 

Parched tongue 

thirsting, not even for the word— 

for me the dry air is empty 

again without you. 

I’m not jealous any more 

but I want you. 

I carry myself like a victim 

to the hangman. 

I will not call you 

either joy or love. 

All my own blood is gone. 

Something strange paces there now. 

Another moment 

and I will tell you: 

it's not joy but torture 

you give me. 

I'm drawn to you 

as to a crime— 

to your ragged mouth, 

to the soft bitten cherry. 

Come back to me, 

I'm frightened without you. 

Never had you such power 

over me as now. 

Everything I desire 

appears to me. 

I'm not jealous any more. 

I'm calling you. 

[Osip Mandelstam {1891-1938} from 'Stone: 122' {trans. by Clarence Brown and W.S. Merwin}, from Selected Poems]