FIDELIO Poem by Maria Stepanova

The session begins, everything rustles,
They lead witnesses out and lead new ones in,
The sentence is delivered in haste,
The accused turns into the convicted.

The sentence is brought into action,
Usually with the doctor and the prison director.
They don't allow relatives in here.
They don't allow journalists in here either.
They let the convicted in here, one by one,
Arrange their shoulders, ankles and wrists,
Let them smoke one final cigarette,
Give them a shot, give them alternating current,
The convicted man turns into a bear.

The relatives don't usually come to pick them up,
Although I do know of one exceptional case:
They keep it at the dacha, under guard, to live out its years.
The unclaimed ones are distributed to zoos,
To circus troupes, to private animal collections:
They aren't aggressive, they can be trained well,
They walk on their hind legs, sometimes they say "Mama".

(The woman disguised in the pelt of a guard
is politely ushered into a ‘Black Mariah'.)