Anna Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Her skin was white
Round-faced, Almond-eyed
Not white of Europe but an Asian
We became friends
And she was active
As is spring inside a clock
As wheel in the carts,

Vofka, her husband
Young musician
Also a friend
(Of course through her)
And he is great
And is generous
Yuri Bashmatov
And the Marinsky
Memories of them

And I, as always
Ear and questions
Her dad and her mom
Of two backgrounds
Japan, Korea
Well-known as two foes
But when in Gulag
The need for support
Bridged between them
They married, became
Like two ‘Koreans’

Sasha, Anna’s son
Was like my nephew
Even grandson)
We had too much fun

Looking back I think
What are we in ‘Life’?
We are the puppets tied to strings.