(1915)
Translated from the Russian by Jane Kenyon and Vera Sandomirsky Dunham
There is a sacred, secret line in loving
which attraction and even passion cannot cross,––
even if lips draw near in awful silence
and love tears at the heart.
Friendship is weak and useless here,
and years of happiness, exalted and full of fire,
because the soul is free and does not know
the slow luxuries of sensual life.
Those who try to come near it are insane
and those who reach it are shaken by grief.
So now your know exactly why
my heart beats no faster under your hand.
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