("катя" by С. Жадан 'Lюk')
We have passed this way
I know this
what is left to leave, my pilgrim
how to count all birds above us
who’s behind the glass
it’s children
who’s that one the night can bear
taste of rain and bread is growing
and the child in me
you hear
like a fish through night is flowing
All these car-gas-stations, campsites in pre-mountings
someone has left, someone spilled out the treasures lonely
as those presents that on Christmas Day gets your son
we have with you a lot of treasures, decors
which we are passing - hand to another
we have some yellow bread as well as some black olives
we have some beeswax and some perfumes
we have silver plates – yes we have it
we have flutes and gongs, which are jingling in our suitcases
29 October 2007
Iouri Lazirko
Copyright ©2007 Iouri Lazirko