They say - that tomorrow - the New Year.
Happiness is - new, new are the clothes.
our silly people will be merry
And will sparkle in the Christmas firtrees.
And I think that all of that is foolish,
Cause the good grows out from the past.
We have sawed on what we have been rooted
And the fruitless deadwood waits for us.
The whole country is looted and suffers
Enemies are feasting on the bones,
And the feast for them today is hearty
And the lights in Kremlin, for them burn.
Only - hush - in the far fields in snowfall -
the Angelic armies on revolt,
And the crawling of blizzard forces
right to Moscow, judgy it by the frost!
May God grant us, with blizzards to stand up
And to see the wonderful true dawn,
when we will be able to give laughter
to meet babies in cradles at home.
In the meantime, I'll drink for the downfall
of all those who despised my land and robbed!
Let them not see neither base nor tire!
let them hear - in hell - the Chiming clock!
translation from Alex S.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nicely written, Last stanza is amazing......10