Chalice
For year I taught
Apparently!
I learned indeed.
Students have always been
My supreme teachers.
In Moscow cried my Russian student
A bank worker.
Russia was in debt for the Soviet debts
“I cannot afford paying a thousand dollars…”
My student said and tears ran down his cheeks
“It was borrowed under my name before my birth.”
Thank you wherever you are
You opened my eyes to the facts
I studied Russia and her existence
Before and after October Renaissance
Pushkin, Lermontov, Turgenev, Tolstoy
And of course…the Idiot…
I held her in my arms; heart and mind
We rolled up and down so I,
Can proudly announce:
“I know this aspiring witch with illicit child…”
Romanovs and the stories manufactured are like
Chalice, which
I learned from a younger man
Talking of Socrates and Khomeini
Drinking poison, latter metaphorical.
From chalice I shall drink knowledge and
The ale from old Hafez…
That I find to teach me
That can end the pain…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem