To V. Zlobin
I roar — a dying lion...
D’ you see all this, my God!
Between machine’s teeth iron,
My flesh is being deformed.
I’ll bear pains my own…
But would I — all, I feel?
All that in systems goes on,
Between the clogs of wheels?
В. Злобину
Кричу — и крик звериный…
Суди меня Господь!
Меж зубьями машины
Моя скрежещет плоть.
Своё — стерплю в гордыне…
Но все? Но если все?
Терпеть, что все в машине?
В зубчатом колесе?
«What did they do / with the relatives of Christ? / What did they do with them? / No written source / will tell you a damned thing — / nothing but crossings out, emptiness. / What the hell did they do with them? What did they do / with those simple people, / simple craftsmen, men w...»
«I have deserved the gratitude of Italy. / I have contributed to their history, / To people, art and culture, by and large: / I gave them snow. And plenty. Free of charge. Italians, captured on the River Don, / Were packed and convoyed in a cattle car / All starved and thirsty, barely hang...»
«When finally the war is won / Its gain is only for the winner. / But for the soldier's lonely widow / For nights on end, the war goes on. The winner meets his glory days; / The widow's dreary days are creeping — / Into her nights the cold is seeping / From one of countless nameless gr...»
«While the dolphin and the sea-horse / Played silly games together, / The ocean beat against the cliffs / And washed the cliffs with its water. / The scary water moaned and cried. / The stars shone. Years went by. Then the horrid hour came: / I am no more, and so are you, / The sea is ...»