Khodasevich again

While I’m pondering upon Political Philosophie, here’s a translation attempt. [Edited in 2017.] The original poem dates back to the early 1920s.

A half-forgotten comfort,
The blessing of a night carouse!
A sip — and you need nothing,
A sip — and you want more,

And life before the unsober eye
So deeply is bared —
Like this supple back
Of the woman sitting near.

I see the links of the narrow spine
Running across;
I press my lips to them for a moment —
And powder dusts my mouth.

The carefree creature’s laughing,
And I’m relieved to mix
Unsoothing knowledge
With the bliss of knowing naught.

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