Waiting by Yevgeny Yevtushenko

Desire, desire, desire. Thinking of you and listening to Suzanne Vega’s Caramel. Reading this poem:

Waiting
Yevgeny Yevtushenko

My love will come
will fling open her arms and fold me in them,
will understand my fears, observe my changes.
In from the pouring dark, from the pitch night
without stopping to bang the taxi door
she’ll run upstairs through the decaying porch
burning with love and love’s happiness,
she’ll run dripping upstairs, she won’t knock,
will take my head in her hands,
and when she drops her overcoat on a chair,
it will slide to the floor in a blue heap.

And, years later, I remember your name and think: old love, T. Old love.

“My love will come…”
Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Translated by Albert C. Todd

            To B. Akhmadulina

My love will come,
will fold me in her arms,
will notice all the changes,
will understand my apprehensions.

From the pouring dark, the infernal gloom,
forgetting to close the taxi door,
she’ll dash up the rickety steps
all flushed with joy and longing.

Drenched, she’ll burst in, without a knock,
will take my head in her hands,
and from a chair her blue fur coat
will slip blissfully to the floor.

From The Collected Poems: 1952-1990 by Yevgeny Yevtushenko, published by Henry Holt and Company, 1991.

Updated on 1 May 2013. The first version was given to me A., who isn’t in my life now, but who mattered to me, once.

2 Comments

  1. It’s a comfort to know that you and these poems will be here after a day of uncertainty. The idea of being able to, have coffee (or perhaps you prefer tea) and just converse would seem as remarkable.

    Thank you for feeding my soul.

  2. An alternate translation of this lovely piece. Translation by Albert C. Todd:

    “My love will come
    will fold me in her arms,
    will notice all the changes,
    will understand my apprehensions.

    In from the pouring dark, the infernal gloom,
    forgetting to close the taxi door,
    she’ll dash up the rickety steps,
    all flushed with joy and longing.

    Drenched, she’ll burst in without a knock,
    will take my head in her hands,
    and from a chair her blue fur coat
    will slip blissfully to the floor.”

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