THE BRIGHT DAY, 1942

By the jasmine lies a stone,
Beneath the stone lies treasure.
On the path stands father.
It is a bright, bright day.

The silver poplar’s flowering,
And the centifolia rose,
Beyond – grow curling ramblers,
And tender, milky grass.

Never again have I been
As happy as then.
Never again have I been
As happy as then.

There can be no returning,
Nor has it been given
To tell what perfect joy
Filled that garden heaven.

Arseniy Tarkovsky