The Void

distracted and mesmerized
he does not know life is
reaching its conclusion
blue sky, sun is bright
wide open road ― such a delight
time would pass by
insoluble riddles, questions unanswered
but old bones would now break the illusion
beneath gray sky, in fading light
one last ride ―
he would then return to The Void

Withered

fallen leaves
lifeless and withered,
vain longing
hollow suffocation,
a rhymeless pain
of lost love, reason and dedication.

Бессмертие ~ Immortality

Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, Moscow

Some of my favorite poems from the book Бессмертие (Immortality). Бессмертие is an anthology of Soviet poets who laid down their lives in The Great Patriotic War (WW II). It is heart-rending to realize that some of these poems were written by youthful souls who had just begun living and how the harsh reality of war reflects through their verses.

Leonid Vilkomir (1935)

This my life shall never be repeated,
It’s no song that you can sing again.
So one day since fate cannot be cheated,
I shall also pass to death’s domain.

But whatever else I do while living,
This I beg of life before I am done:
Let me savour water, scent rough weather,
See the night stars, greet the rising Sun!

I’d like happiness to call and see me
And the finest feelings freely give.
If it’s true that death will not release me,
How shall I unlearn to think and live?

****************************************

Parting Words ~ Vassily Kubanev (1939)

We are bound to leave one day
Down this road we know so well,
Past those white-washed homes of clay,
Walking fast to catch the train.
It’s from here, among the birches,
That our childhood took start
And from here, as from a village,
Run our roads when we must part.

We shall bid a fond farewell,
Stack our luggage in our places,
Through the window we shall lean
To dear hands and smiling faces.
With a jerk the train will start.
Cottage windows flashing by,
Water-meadows whirling past,
Overhead the smoke will fly.

On the platform friends will stand,
Handkerchiefs and caps they’ll wave.
Through the sound of wheels we’ll hear
Lively farewell calls,
“May great happiness be yours.
May it be as bright and brave,
Always constant, true and clear
As the shining Milky Way.”

“Many letters may you write
When you are living far away.
May your life be smooth and bright,
Moving as great rivers flow.
May your home be light and gay,
May many windows make it glow
And, always, may  the work you do
Bring happiness each day.”

Dashing down the grades our train
Will leave a wake of birds to sail,
As long bridges roar and and clatter.
Then green fields and peace again 
A raconteur will start his tale...
Through the window gusts will batter,
While moving backwards, trees sweep by
And branches wave a last goodbye.

****************************************

Dream ~ Fatykh Karim (1942)

In loving all that's beautiful,
None ever rivalled me.
In striving for the joys of earth,
Surpassed I could not be.

I was in kinship with my homeland,
Brother to wood and stream...
But now, when in the heat of battle,
Of one thing do I dream.

I would become like a holy fire
To blast the enemy.
I would become devoid of fear
And pure as poetry.

****************************************

Georgi Suvorov (1944)

Grief as sharp as splintered steel
Day and night we feel...
Black smoke hangs, black ravens reel
O'er the burnt-out field.

Lilies-of-the-valley, white,
At its fringes spread.
A soldier's dying  and the earth
Lies soft beneath his head.

Restless, though, a dream still lives
In his youthful soul,
As he presses lifeless lips
To his native soil.

Driven by the wind, the quiet
Drifts and melts away.
Lilies-of-the-valley, white,
O'er the soldier sway.

Выхожу один я на дорогу ~ Михаил Лермонтов

एकाकि पथिक


एकाकि पथिक आहे मी;
धुक्यात हरवलेल्या रस्त्याचा,
नि:शब्द रात्री वाळवंट परमेश्वराला शोधत आहे,
आणि तारे एकमेकांशी बोलत आहेत.

स्तब्ध आणि एकाकि आहे सृष्टी;
लपेटलेल्या निळ्या चांदण्यामधे,
का आहे एवढा मी दु:खी आणि कष्टी?
कशाची वाट पहातो आहे? की कसला पश्चाताप होतो आहे?

नाही! मला आता कसलिही आशा नाही;
आणि भुतकाळाबद्दल पश्चाताप नाही,
फक्त शांतता आणि मुक्ती हवी आहे,
विसरायचं आहे सर्व काही, चिरनिद्रेमधे.

पण नको आहे ते थडगं काळीज गोठवणारं;
मला हवी आहे चिरनिद्रा,
माझी जीवनज्योत हळूवार मालवताना,
तिचा ऊबदार श्वास मला स्पर्श करेल.

दिवस आणि रात्र, माझ्या कानाशी
गोड आवाज प्रेमगीते म्हणतील, आणि
माझ्यावर एक ओक वृक्ष
चिरकाल बहरेल.


Выхожу один я на дорогу...


Выхожу один я на дорогу;
Сквозь туман кремнистый путь блестит;
Ночь тиха. Пустыня внемлет богу,
И звезда с звездою говорит.

В небесах торжественно и чудно!
Спит земля в сиянье голубом...
Что же мне так больно и так трудно?
Жду ль чего? жалею ли о чём?

Уж не жду от жизни ничего я,
И не жаль мне прошлого ничуть;
Я ищу свободы и покоя!
Я б хотел забыться и заснуть!

Но не тем холодным сном могилы...
Я б желал навеки так заснуть,
Чтоб в груди дремали жизни силы,
Чтоб дыша вздымалась тихо грудь;

Чтоб всю ночь, весь день мой слух лелея,
 Про любовь мне сладкий голос пел,
Надо мной чтоб вечно зеленея,
Тёмный дуб склонялся и шумел.


Lone's the mist-cloaked road before me lying...


Lone's the mist-cloaked road before me lying,
On and on it winds and draws me far,
Night is still, all earthly sounds are dying,
Nature lists to God; star speaks to star.

Silent is the earth and wrapt in slumber,
By a silvered blueness it is lit.
Why is my heart plagued by feeling sombre?
Is there aught I wait, aught I regret?...

No, there's naught I wait, and, naught regretting,
Think not of the past - 'tis buried deep.
Ah, to find true freedom, true forgetting
In the calm of everlasting sleep!

Yet I dread the cold and clammy fingers
And the leaden, icy sleep of death.
Would that life within me dormant lingered
And I felt its warm and balmy breath;

Would that love's own voice, my ear caressing,
Night and day sang dulcet songs to me,
And an ancient Oak, my slumber blessing,
Swayed above my head eternally.

~ Mikhail Lermontov 1841


English translation taken from "...И ПРОБУЖДАЕТСЯ ПОЭЗИЯ ВО МНЕ..."
Из Русской Классической Поэзии. РАДУГА 1984.