Lina Kostenko
Under translation from ukranian into russian
By Nikolai Sysoilov
The dawn was spelled by crows - sun has failed
To rise up - only their cry 'Kar-Kar'.
And lies there broken with breast over way-station
In green grass made from a birch - Ikar.
The platform sails after the moon's light... Haze...
The barrier... Silence... The cross-over...
And trees, as if weighed with the caps,
Are grumbling under nests of crows.
To walk along the street as a shadow.
To find a coffee-bar. Throw coat. Where am I?
Who am I? There're, of course, the thousands
Of way-stations. Day, two - no one would find.
Only the noise of a far-surf there -
The trees, the streets, the bridges, people...
I'm carrying a valise, wholly tamped
With verses all about you and me...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem