"This memory could have been saved..."

Могла бы помнить мне было четыре,

ей два месяца двадцать дней.

Сестра моя смерть и сегодня в могиле.

Я ничего не знаю о ней.

Не потому ли со дна веселья

смотрит, смотрит такая тоска,

словно сижу над пустой колыбелью

в халате, мокром от молока.

This memory could have been saved,

I was four, she - two months twenty days.

My sister is death and today in the grave.

All knowledge of her was erased.

Is this why, from the bottom of gaiety nightly

such misery gapes at me still,

like I’m sitting, her cradle beside me,

in a robe saturated with milk.