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Boris Pasternak - There`ll be no one in the house...
Work rating: Low

There`ll be no one in the house
Save for twilight. All alone,
Winter`s day seen in the space that`s
Made by curtains left undrawn.

Only flash-past of the wet white
Snowflake clusters, glimpsed and gone.
Only roofs and snow, and save for
Roofs and snow-no one at home.

Once more, frost will trace its patterns,
I`ll be haunted once again
By my last year`s melancholy,
By that other wintertime.

Once more, I`ll be troubled by an
Old unexpiated shame,
And the icy firewood famine
Will press on the window-pane.

But the quiver of intrusion
Through those curtains folds will run.
Measuring silence with your footsteps,
Like the future, in you`ll come.

You`ll appear there in the doorway
Wearing something white and plain,
Something in the very stuff from
Which the snowflakes too are sewn.
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