Eastern Europe
pierced with
American pop culture
that is pouring out
out of cheap Tvs
and old radios
less and less
of East in the East
apart from glaring
everlasting wealth and poverty
only exotic beauty can
confuse for a little while
but it's only an illusion
- crowds always happily march
in accordance with higher dictates
not realizing that all
the greatness, splendour
and solemnity of the Past
are already forever lost.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem