I am sorry it is winter now, <br />And you can't hear mosquitoes in the house, <br />But you reminded yourself <br />Of the frivolous straw. <br /> <br />The dragonflies hover in the blue sky, <br />And fashion twirls like a swallow; <br />A basket on the head, <br />Or a bombastic ode? <br /> <br />I don't presume to give advice <br />And useless excuses, <br />But the taste of whipped cream <br />And the smell of oranges is forever. <br /> <br />You define everything without thinking, <br />And things are the worse for it. <br />What can you do? The most sensitive mind <br />Is put wholly on the surface. <br /> <br />You try to beat the yolk <br />With an angry spoon. <br />It grew white, it succumbed. <br />Yet just a little more. <br /> <br />In you everything teases, everything sings <br />Like an Italian roulade, <br />And a small cherry mouth <br />Demands some dry grapes. <br /> <br />Don't try so hard to be smart, <br />In you everything is whimsy, fleeting, <br />And in the shadow from your cap, <br />A Venetian bautta.<br /><br />Osip Emilevich Mandelstam<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-sorry-it-is-winter-now/
