A Special Reason Poem by Saniya Galeyeva

Along twisted mouths
By moles who have lifted their eyelids
Is seen the mistake of a sprout.
Down the short-sighted eyes
Not believing silly tears
Is crawling a stream of sand.

Till the hand does recollect,
The knuckles are flickering at the temple,
The slanting board is calling.
I am at the door peephole
Under the heel of the ceiling.

At the entrance there was an egg
Or a tough word.
I turn my face.
The dream has jerked into a nightmare -
A new-born Mason
Is singing with me in unison.

A winged wind in the distance
Has burnt the tops of the cliffs
But here it is fondling the lawn
As for this there is a special reason.
As for this there is a special department,
As for this there is a special regime,
As for this there is a special reason.

Having got into chinks the convoy
Will stick up the windows with grass,
We shall be driven to slaughter.
The hero will make the sign of the cross over himself
And step into the pulled-out line.
Ahead, for the fatherland, fighting.

And will wreck the evil enemies,
That one who hasn`t put on boots,
That one who hasn`t bid farewell to himself,
That one who hasn`t committed suicide -
Everyone will be driven to slaughter.

As for this there is a special department,
As for this there is a special regime,
As for this there is a special reason.