For The Death Of My Unhappy Relatives - Poem by Zamir Osorov
You should have died hereafter
not now - on the peak of power, wise and respect.
When country and yours relatives and children
are most needful for you and support.
One of you the potential computer genius
equal to founder of Apple
died from vodka and heavy intoxication
fall damn from stroke in hottest day.
Other also looking very strong, prosperous and
well protected, respected and inclining for fatness man
Died from, as I guess, overeating on our endless toes and fests
and innumerous days of remembrance of our dear alders.
When no one in country don’t worry about dying country.
Maybe I mistaken and he ended his day from heavy troubles,
overburdened with traditions and others despotically trivialitis
of our everyday life,
forgotten keep the blood pressure,
or have not habit for the lightest physical exercise.
But I know precisely and perfectly
both had been educated and ambitious persons
from well family, clans, with good roots and future.
O coursed world and nation!
When your best sons looking as heroes
have dyed so strangely and awkwardly,
when people and country have so great need for them -
they vanished forever
as deserters from field of battles,
as fools escaping from busy works in midday
to heaven - planning relax on waster clouds pillows.
Shameful for you
and for all who go after you!
I so hated such heroes
that himself sometimes desired go to hell
and beat and kick out them,
step by step lift up from every circles of Aids
for returning to life
my weakling relatives
to theirs country and children
and not to believe so cowardly and leisurely
for sleeping paradise and forlorn after Death.
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