***
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.
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