The gold that was my hair has turned

by Marina Tsvetaeva

English version by Paul Graves
Original Language Russian

The gold that was my hair has turned
silently to gray. Don't pity me!
Everything's been realized,
in my breast all's blended and attuned.

-- Attuned, as all of distance blends
In the smokestack moaning on the outskirts.
And Lord! A soul's been realized:
The most deeply secret of your ends.

-- from Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women, Edited by Jane Hirshfield

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/ Image by Petteri Sulonen /


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Commentary by Ivan M. Granger

Although Tsvetaeva's poetry often has the feeling of struggling against the weight of life, there is also a glimpse of something transcendent.

In this poem, I love the line "in my breast all's blended and attuned." This is often how mystical union is experienced, as a stunning, all-inclusive wholeness that, though everywhere, is somehow centered in the heart.

But in Tsvetaeva's troubled world, there is the odd juxtaposition of an inner wholeness that ironically emerges only in the soot of life: "--Attuned, as all of distance blends / In the smokestack moaning on the outskirts."

Yet, Marina Tsvetaeva closes her poem with sacred recognition:

And Lord! A soul's been realized:
The most deeply secret of your ends.


Perhaps Marina Tsvetaeva is consciously experiencing a state of union or, perhaps, as with many poets, the feeling is unconsciously noted. This almost-awareness of union can sometimes have a suggestion of reality; it feels as if it should be there, as if it probably is there, even if it is not yet directly perceived. The experience of union is not truly an "experience" since it has no beginning or end point. It is going on always, eternally, within each of us -- we just have to become still enough to recognize it. When that union hasn't drawn us fully into its expansive realms, it is still with us, quietly whispering of its existence in the inner ear. Many individuals who haven't had a full-blown mystical opening may still instinctively describe aspects of these states. It can filter through to the normal awareness when, as with many artists, one steps out of common mental patterning... and begins to listen to that whisper.

Once we hear that quiet breath, who knows where it will lead us when we decide to follow it...



Recommended Books: Marina Tsvetaeva

Women in Praise of the Sacred: 43 Centuries of Spiritual Poetry by Women Tsvetayeva: Selected Poems Tsvetaeva Milestones A Russian Psyche: The Poetic Mind of Marina Tsvetaeva
More Books >>



The gold that was