“ The last city, of the last star…”


The last city,

of the last star.

Holidays of happiness.

Years of doubt,

years of silence.

You at the read night

are begging

for salvation,

like for alms,

with trembling eyelids

of wounded streets,

following the trail

of mysterious truths

of Motherland voices –

horseshoes of hope,

living on the slopes

of cold tears’

frantic pity.

Translated by Natalia Ogienko.