“Every moment that we were together
Was a celebration, like Epiphany,
In all the World the two of us alone.
You were bolder, lighter than a bird’s wing,
Heady as vertigo you ran downstairs
Two steps at a time, and led me
Through damp lilac, into your domain
On the other side, beyond the mirror.”
“My sight, which was my power, now blurs Two invisible diamond spears; My hearing subsides, full of ancient thunder And the breathing of the house of my father. The knots of tough muscles slacken Like grey oxen, lax in the ploughed field; The wings behind my shoulders yield No light when evening darkens.
I am a candle. I burned at the feast. Gather my wax when morning arrives So that this page will prompt you How to be proud, and how to weep, How to give away the last third Of happiness, and to die with ease— And beneath a temporary roof To burn posthumously, like a word.”
—A poem by Russian poet Arseny Tarkovsky recited in Nostalghia (1983) directed by Andrei Trkovsky.