No More Nevsky Prospect Poem by Liza Sud

We will not rent a limousine
as it is in vogue today,
but we'll take Russian horses - three -
in a warming old-fasioned way.

We will sluggishly ride through fields
and not wishing to come to Peter.
Only Syangogue and Mariinsky
we would probably want to visit.

We will turn to Saint Nicolas Church
with three rivers of small size,
We will faster and faster go
wanting like Mark Shagall - to fly.

We'll be riding through Pestel street
from one church to another church,
and will wave to Muruzi strip
that is narrow like Joseph's dream.

Then we'll go to Smolny park,
there is refined white-blue church,
But I'll whisper to you: Desire
is much better than death of stone.

And will go to Nevsky prospect
from the quay of Fontanka river -
and we'll clash there like a blow
making all modern cars shiver.

Why I don't like limos?
Mainly because of glasses -
they reduce sun to gleaming.
More for me they are sluggish.

They take away the feeling
of Russian legend ride -
when with eyes almost bleeding
we hurry on like mad.

All will drown in the horses' foam,
all will drown in Daniel's sperm.
There wil be no more Nevsky Prospect.
the Imperial street will swirl.

And astonished painter will draw
the last sketch of cold-weathered town.
Because we will be there no more.
The reality will fade down.

The last clash - and together we go
to the empty sky of our dream.
All beginnings crawl on to grow,
But in Time coincide with nil.

That is my desire of speeding,
that's my reason of ever-rush.
To rule Time - to cut-stretch the minutes
and two spaces - in one - combine.