“She came in, completely gray-haired, Wearily sat down by the fire …”

She came in, completely gray-haired,
Wearily sat down by the fire,
And suddenly she said, “I don’t know
Why are you torturing me.

After all, I’m young, beautiful,
And I want to live, I want to love.
And you humble me with force
And beat you to death.

Would you like to be silent? And I’m silent
Will you tell me to live, chasing love?
I can’t take it anymore, I’m tired.
Why are you torturing me?

Because you love, you love, you love
Heart piercing with love,
You can not judge, love is not judged.
It is forbidden? Leave your “no”s.

Let go of your inhibitions,
Now, at least in jest, sin:
Don’t torture yourself with insomnia
Go crazy, write poetry.

Or confess your love, or something,
And if the feeling is not honored,
You set me free
Don’t kill, let go.”

And the woman, almost sobbing,
Dropping gray strands, she repeated:
“I don’t know why you’re torturing me?”
He was speechless.

Into the habitual darkness
Suddenly this storm broke in.
Surprised, and no time to think:
“Sorry, I don’t know you.

I did not put fetters on you”
And suddenly he asked, barely breathing:
“What is your name? Tell me who are you?
She replied: “Your Soul.”

– Eduard Asadov