A letter from comrade Zaitsev to a lady:
You stayed the weekend, we had our pleasant few days. I walked you to the train, where you hugged me a little too tightly and for a little too long. I was happy, delighted by the sudden strength of the feeling behind it, until you looked up and revealed that in it was goodbye. You did not feel strong romantic feelings for me. I was doubtful, too; we are different. But I was enjoying you, and those little romantic feelings I was having, and I'm sad that you weren't, quite enough. I didn't expect anything of an us; I was still exploring you in pleasant minutes, not plotting hours. It was enough. I wish you had shared your grave uncertainties sooner, before our final night, before our final hours, before my touch and words and I became all silently unwelcome. What a shame.
Alas, I wish you well.
Poet Taras Zaitsev, various works over various years
Translation by Quinxy von Besiex, 2009