#bound for hell

Bound for Hell ~ Marina Tsvetaeva Translated from the Russian by Stephen Edgar

Hell, my ardent sisters, be assured, Is where we’re bound; we’ll drink the pitch of hell— We, who have sung the praises of the lord With every fiber in us, every cell.

We, who did not manage to devote Our nights to spinning, did not bend and sway Above a cradle—in a flimsy boat, Wrapped in a mantle, we’re now borne away.

Every morning, every day, we’d rise And have the finest Chinese silks to wear; And we’d strike up the songs of paradise Around the campfire of a robbers’ lair,

We, careless seamstresses (our seams all ran, Whether we sewed or not)—yet we have been Such dancers, we have played the pipes of Pan: The world was ours, each one of us a queen.

First, scarcely draped in tatters, and disheveled, Then plaited with a starry diadem; We’ve been in jails, at banquets we have reveled: But the rewards of heaven, we’re lost to them,

"Hell is no place for an angel, especially not my Angel. You’re not alone now, baby, and I’ll never let you fall. I love you too much. I know it will take time for you to believe that, and I will be patient. For as long as it takes."

"Being happy and part of something wonderful like this is unfamiliar to me. But I feel it now. I’m learning to embrace this. I’m learning to lean on you, really, I am. But I’m afraid. And I know you say it will never happen, but no one really knows what’s around the corner, and if I lean too hard and one day, for whatever reason, you’re not there to catch me—it will be a fall I won’t have the strength to survive."

🎧 Every breath you take by The Belgian choir, Scala & Kolacny Brothers