Резултати претраге

Stanzas

I don’t want to decide on
the churchyard, the state.
On Vasilevsky Island,
for my death, I will wait.
I won’t locate that dark-
blue façade after all,
in-between faded marks,
on the asphalt, I’ll fall.
 
And my soul, in a rush
to dissolve in night’s cloak,
over bridges will flash
in the Petrograd smoke,
in the April’s cool haze,
as the light snowflakes melt,
I’ll make out a phrase:
- See you later, dear friend.
 
Past the river, two distant
lives will come into sight,
cheek to cheek with indifferent
motherland by their side,
- like two sisters from vibrant
unlived years, cast away,
running out on the island,
sending him on his way.