Skip to main content
Outdated Browser

For the best experience using our website, we recommend upgrading your browser to a newer version or switching to a supported browser.

More Information

Poetry

From “Poems”

By Mikhail Eremin
Translated from Russian by Alex Cigale

The postwar ruins (Roofs ripped off,
The charred walls.) do not resemble
Skeletons, stripped by the predators—
The gnawed-upon scraps of ribs,
Crushed to dust cranial bones.
Only that the same birds
Flock to the remains
As to scorched ground.

2003

 

To be struck in the forest by a flash of light, where there’s crunch
And crackling, rustle and creaking underfoot, and the hush
That brings to mind wheezes and groans, whispering and sighs,
Where every measly bush is disguised as
God knows what, and the half-rotten trunk—a dangerous maw.
Do not such deliberate and persistent fears shade
Of other depredations: burning, prickling, poison,
And of what multitude of others still?

2007

© Mikhail Eremin. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2017 by Alex Cigale. All rights reserved.

English Russian

The postwar ruins (Roofs ripped off,
The charred walls.) do not resemble
Skeletons, stripped by the predators—
The gnawed-upon scraps of ribs,
Crushed to dust cranial bones.
Only that the same birds
Flock to the remains
As to scorched ground.

2003

 

To be struck in the forest by a flash of light, where there’s crunch
And crackling, rustle and creaking underfoot, and the hush
That brings to mind wheezes and groans, whispering and sighs,
Where every measly bush is disguised as
God knows what, and the half-rotten trunk—a dangerous maw.
Do not such deliberate and persistent fears shade
Of other depredations: burning, prickling, poison,
And of what multitude of others still?

2007

© Mikhail Eremin. By arrangement with the author. Translation © 2017 by Alex Cigale. All rights reserved.

Послевоенные руины (Обескровельные,
Обугленные стены.) не подобны
Скелетам, обнаженным хищниками —
Огрызки ребер,
Искрошенные мозговые кости.
И разве что одни и те же птицы
Слетаются к останкам
И пепелищам.

2003

 

Осмеркнуться в лесу, где хруст и треск,
Шуршание и скрип, и шелест
Домысливаются до хрипа, стонов, шепота и вздохов,
Где всякий жалкий куст прикидывается
Черт знает кем, а полусгнивший пень – опасной пастью.
Не застят ли столь нарочитые навязчивые страхи
Иных напастей: жгучих, колких, ядовитых,
Да мало ли каких еще?

2007

Read Next

[class^="wpforms-"]
[class^="wpforms-"]