An Attempt At Jealousy

How is it living with another? Simple isn't it? And soon even the memory of me A stroke of the oar

Is left behind with the line of the shore, A floating island (In the sky, not in the water)! Spirits, spirits, they will be sisters, Not lovers to you, ever!
How is your life with an ordinary woman? Without the divine? From her throne (stepped down). The sovereign is deposed
How's your life? Busy? Huddled? Waking up ... how? How do you cope with it, poor man? Taxed by the undyingly trivial
"Hysterics and interruptions--Enough! I'll rent a place of my own." My chosen one? How's life with your love,
Is the food more to your taste? More delicious? You're to blame if you sicken. You, who have walked on Sinai? How's your life with a semblance,
How's your life with a stranger, In another place? Point blank: Are you in love? Does not shame, like the reins of Zeus, Lash your forehead? How is your life? Healthy?
Is it possible? Do you sing: how? Plagued with an undying conscience, How do you cope, poor man? How's your life with the goods
Of the market place? The rent— is it steep? After Carrara marble How is your life with the dust
Of plaster? (God was carved from A block of stone-- and beaten into sand!) How is it living with one of a hundred thousand women-- You, who have known Lilith?
The market? Grown cold to magic, Are you sated with the novelty of Woman, one without a sixth Sense? How is it living with an earthly
Are you happy now, in your mind? As mine with another man? No? In a failure without end How is your life, dear? As difficult
Marina Tsvetaeva November 19, 1924