* * * 92 * * *
Бубенцы росы
звенят,
ветер хлопает
в ладоши,
фильм о пуле
смертью снят,
гули-гули,
фильм хороший,
только нет в живых
ребят.
* * * 92 * * *
The dew bells
are ringing;
the wind flaps,
claps.
A death-by-bullet
movie is made;
ghouls, ghouls.
The movie is good,
but none of the guys
remain alive.
In the cover letter to the translated poetry, Sheppard noted:
“… I attach a new version of the June-August Blackout poems that includes number 92, the latest.
Do let me know if I have misunderstood something. This is a poem of a real genius. What a great talent Alexander has.
I hope all is well with you and Alexander.”
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