Marina Tsvetaeva - The gold that was my hair has turned

Ivan M. Granger January 28th, 2009

The gold that was my hair has turned
by Marina Tsvetaeva

English version by Paul Graves

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


/ Photo by Petteri Sulonen /

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 wrenched us fully into its heavenly 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. And once you hear that quiet breath, who knows where it will lead you if you decide to follow it…

Marina Tsvetaeva, Marina Tsvetaeva poetry, Secular or Eclectic poetry Marina Tsvetaeva

Russia (1892 - 1941) Timeline
Secular or Eclectic

Marina Tsvetaeva’s life was caught up in the turmoil of the Russian Revolution and its aftermath. Her husband fought on the side of the Tsar and then in the White Guard attempting to restore the line of Tsars. Marina, her husband, and their children moved to Paris to live among the Russian expatriate community there, but they were eventually shunned because her husband was thought to be a Soviet spy — which apparently turned out to be true. Throughout this time, Marina desperately struggled to feed her family, sometimes having to resort to theft. They later moved back to Soviet Russia, where her husband was eventually arrested and killed, despite his earlier collaboration. Marina Tsvetaeva committed suicide in 1941.

Despite the struggles and tragedies of her life, her writing reflects a sharp mind, a seeing eye, and heart.

More poetry by Marina Tsvetaeva

2 Responses to “Marina Tsvetaeva - The gold that was my hair has turned”

  1. maryann moonon 28 Jan 2009 at 1:46 pm

    Your notes on this woman’s particular poem are very lovely. She surely does seem to feel the union with the
    transcendent, which, as you say, lives so quietly
    within us, whispering always. The transcendent
    sits and waits for you and me to realize more and more
    deeply our Higher Self and its wondrouly enhanced thoughts. Marina speaks them in this poem.

    So, Ivan, it’s good to be back on your list again.
    And aren’t we lucky we voted for Barack Hussein Obama
    and he won?

    I received a message from Archangel Michael re Pres
    Obama. Obama is truly an inspired angel.

  2. jmon 29 Jan 2009 at 6:58 am

    Thank you, Ivan.

    Just when you’ve found yourself, cock sure of where you are, and you begin to think you know, faith compels you to take the next step.

    I found a pair of grey socks
    in a dream tonight.
    They match my hair,
    and a hatch of mind-flies
    asking questions about a sooty smokestack…
    life gone up in smoke?
    time to purify shushumna,
    and my connection to God?
    to put on my socks and go. . .
    rock and roll
    and dance
    the last tango.

    ~

    jm

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