Galina Struchalina

Roll down, Long, Long River to the sea,
Call me, Long, Long River where I should be.
Sing me a lullaby
How to live and die.
...

The war has come to the town.
Mines are going down, going down.
Town's water line nearby got blown,
And the stream leaks, so muddy and hot,
...

Tell me the way to your summer
Tell me the turn in the road:
Crossing the June fields,
Paying the old bills
...

Sounds of sadness...
Misses and fallings, and tolls
Under my fingers.
...

Take them. In memory, please, take
The wind and holy frost
That grind a Christmas star and make
Pure brilliance for the lost.
...

The translation of the last poem by Russian poet of the 18th century Gavrila Derzhavin

The stream of time in rapid during
All people's doings whirls away
...

provoking smell of mignonette and fishpond
does nоt accept half-lights and regulations...
all that is she, the girl, whose little fingers
keep scratches of a cat and canker-rose...
...