"A mistake" by Marina Tsvetaeva

I took a liberty of translating this one to English myself. I did my best to convey the rhyme, imagery and structure, as I often see them get ruined by translations.

When a snowflake that's so lightly flitting,
Like a little star that slid and fell,
You’d take in your hand — it melts like a tear,
And there's no way to make it fly again.

When a jellyfish's lucidity enthralls us,
And we would touch her with our hands' whim,
She would, like a prisoner in chains,
Suddenly go pale and die suddenly.

When we want to see the earth's realness,
Not a dream, in moths-vagabonds —
Where's their attire? Remained on our fingers
Is only dust coloured by the dawn.

Leave the snowflakes and moths to their flight,
And don't scathe the jellyfish in sands!
You shouldn't try to grab your desire,
You shouldn't hold your dream in your hands!

You can't, to what was a fragile sadness,
Say, "Be the passion, glow, burn insane!"
Your love used to be a mistake like these, —
But without love we perish. Fascinator!