My goldfinch, I'll toss back my head—

let's look at the world, you and I:

a wintry day, prickly as stubble,

is it just as rough on your eye?

Tail like a boat, black and gold plumage,

dipped in paint from the beak down—

are you aware, my little goldfinch,

what a goldfinch dandy you are?

What air there is on his forehead:

black and red, yellow and white—

the keeps a sharp lookout both ways,

won't look now, he's flown out of sight.

Copyright Credit: ''My goldfinch, I’ll toss back my head'' by Osip Mandelstam, translated by Peter France, from Black Earth, translation copyright © 2021 by Peter France. Compilation copyright © 2021 by New Directions Publishing. Reprinted by permission of New Directions Publishing Corp.

Source: Black Earth (New Directions Publishing Corporation, 2021)