To Memory Of Victor Tsoy, Translation Of The Song By I.Talkov Poem by Victor Sklyarov

The poets are born not by odd chances
They must fly down to Earth from distant heights
Enigma of their fate only enhances
Accessible and common poets’ lives

The eyes of such above-sky living envoys
Are always sad, they see another way
In our tangled world their souls shine forever
And light the way to worlds that ran astray

They walk away completing their mission
Being withdrawn by Super Worlds above
They are outside affection and volition
As per the cosmic gaming rule of thumb.

They are leaving making no commitments
The moment that the trumpets sound most
The poets, the actors, and musicians -
Physicians they are for tired souls.

The birds in woods have learned the songs of theirs
The field flowers for them entwine the wreaths
They walk away from us but they will never disappear
In their songs and poems they still breathe

Perhaps today or probably tomorrow
I shall become mysterious envoy
To Super Worlds where went and left us to our sorrow
The poet and composer Victor Tsoy.