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George Tokarev Poem
SONG ABOUT THE EARTH
Vladimir Vysotsky
Is the earth, as they say, burnt and dried?
Will a seed, as they say, never sprout?
Has the earth, as they say, really died?
No! It’s taken a lengthy time-out!
Mother Earth will forever give birth,
Its maternity isn’t a fiction!
Don’t believe that they burnt down the earth,
No! It’s blackened from grief and affliction.
Trenches, running like scars back and forth …
Bleeding guts black shell-craters expose …
They are open nerves of the earth,
Which unearthly unhappiness knows.
It will stand wars and grief — any thing!
It’s not crippled, though booted and looted …
Don’t believe that the earth doesn’t sing,
That it’s quieted down, diluted!
No, it’s singing as loud as it can
From a trench, from a wound, from a hole!
Since the earth is the soul of Man,
Boots cannot trample down the soul!
Translated by George Tokarev
© GEORGE TOKAREV 2001
Copyright © George Tokarev | Year Posted 2005
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George Tokarev Poem
BROTHERLY GRAVES
On brotherly graves wooden crosses don’t stand,
No widows weep there, mourning,
On mass graves you see only flowers and
The fire, eternally burning.
The earth here ruffled with stony waves
When mortars were ripping the planet.
There is no personal fate in these graves –
All fates merged in one under granite!
I see in the flame, that forever is lit,
A village burnt down to coals,
A tank that is flaming and there in it
I see burning soldiers’ souls!
On brotherly graves no widows weep,
And there they put no crosses …
But it doesn’t mean our grief isn’t deep
And we have forgotten the losses!
Translated by George Tokarev
© GEORGE TOKAREV 2003
Copyright © George Tokarev | Year Posted 2005
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George Tokarev Poem
ODE TO THE BATH-HOUSE
Vladimir Vysotsky
God, bestow on us your salvation,
God, your blessing bestow on us,
When we, dirty, begin the lavation,
Washing spirit and flesh in the bath!
Mother-water’s renascent, reviving,
Healing ugliness, sickness and sores.
Here you feel how nature is thriving,
Here you feel that the birthright restores!
Sins and faults, in your soul embedded,
Any nuisance which grinds you or bores,
By hot steam that’s been lavishly added,
Are knocked out of you through your pores!
All your torments are evaporated
And dissolve in the sky to your mirth;
Being freed from your vices and hatred,
You can start a new life on the earth!
It’s not washing – it’s purification!
Don’t you rush outside, take your time!
Give your soul some hard perspiration,
Steam away all its mire and slime!
Naked bodies – defects are not hidden.
Never mind! You’ll be cleansed and renewed!
In the bath-house just like in Eden:
Only those can stay, who are nude!
Rid of pride when the pants you are stripping,
Rid of vanity, being undressed,
Since a besom is equally whipping
Any legs, any back, any breast!
How one is exactly like others
In a sauna you can esteem;
All are free in the bath, all are brothers
And the parity rules in the steam!
Through the bath-house pass generations,
Through the water, that’s holy and prized,
Through affection, through mercy and patience
We, barbarians, must be baptized!
Translated by George Tokarev
© GEORGE TOKAREV 2003
Copyright © George Tokarev | Year Posted 2005
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