Thirty years now Russia’s lived in fetters,
in Magadan, in Kolyma —
but the Russia that will live for ever
is the one now dying in Kolyma.
Россия тридцать лет живёт в тюрьме.
На Соловках или на Колыме.
И лишь на Колыме и Соловках
Россия та, что будет жить в веках.
Всё остальное — планетарный ад:
Прокля́тый Кремль, злощастный Сталинград.
Они достойны только одного —
Огня, испепелящего его.
«Wait for me and I'll be back. / Just wait for me so much! / Wait for me when sky turns black / And golden rains remain in touch. Wait when snow falls great, / And when it's too hot, / When others are by a twist of fate / In yesterday forgot. Wait, when there's no news / From faraway ...»
«Wait for me, and I'll come back! / Wait with all you've got! / Wait, when dreary yellow rains / Tell you, you should not. / Wait when snow is falling fast, / Wait when summer's hot, / Wait when yesterdays are past, / Others are forgot. / Wait, when from that far-off place, / Letter...»
«Wait for me, and I'll return! / Wait with all your might! / Wait, when yellow foliage rains / Will tell you to stop. / Wait when snows are falling fast, / Wait through summer's heat, / Wait when yesterdays are past, / Others are forgotten all. / Wait, when from remote places, / ...»
«August – asters, / August – starlight, / August – bunches / Of ripe grapes and rusty rowan / Berries – August! With benev’lent, sound, befitting / Emperors, your apple regal, / Like a child, you’re playing, August. / Like a palm, your name smooths heartache, / Emperors b...»