(I'm Leaving the Tverskaya Str.)
Oh, my dearest old "Armenia",
Giant-high from this ocean you rose.
In the helter-and-skelter of minions
I am a witness and prisoner of yours.
All your fata morganas of glow,
All your chariot-and-chariotmen’s shriek,
And your mountain foot where in rows
Runs as ever a human-made ‘creek’,
Colors, sounds, and minutes in shortage,
And events knitted into a thread
Of my grounding and deadly voltage -
I can neither unsee nor forget.
Oh, my dearest old "Armenia",
In your dungeons again and again
Generations are passing in millions
Carried over in darkness by train…
Now, that I have obtained absolution
All I need is to settle my debt:
Pray for those alive in illusions
And give graciously pardon to "dead".
30.10.2019