Memory has veiled
much evil;
her long lies leave nothing
to believe.
There may be no cities
or green gardens;
only fields of ice
and salty oceans.
The world may be pure snow,
a starry road;
just northern forest
in the mind of God.
Память скрыла столько зла
Без числа и меры.
Всю-то жизнь лгала, лгала.
Нет ей больше веры.
Может, нет ни городов,
Ни садов зеленых,
И жива лишь сила льдов
И морей соленых.
Может, мир – одни снега,
Звездная дорога.
Может, мир — одна тайга
В пониманье Бога.
«(Instead of a letter) Tobacco smoke eats the air away. / The room, — / a chapter from Kruchenykh’s Inferno. / Recall, — / by the window, / that day, / I caressed you ecstatically, with fervor. / Here you sit now, / with your heart in iron armor. / In a day, / you’ll scol...»
«In lieu of a letter The room’s a chapter of Kruchonykh’s Inferno. / Air / gnawed out by tobacco smoke. / Remember – / At the window, / For the first time, / Burning, / With tender frenzy your arms I’d stroke. Now you’re sitting there, / Heart in armour; / A day, / And...»
«Instead of a letter Tobacco smoke corroded the air. / The room — / is a chapter in Kruchenykh’s hell. / Remember — / this window, / Here / I stroked your hands in a frenzy. / Well, / Your heart encased in iron. / Reviling, / You’ll throw me out, perhaps, / one day. / ...»
«First Prelude to the Poem A strange alarm weighs on my heart, / comrades of posterity! / Rummaging among / these days’ / petrified crap, / exploring the twilight of our times, / you, / possibly, / will inquire about me too. / And, possibly, your scholars / will declare, / wi...»