D.Baramzin, Here's The People's Speech... - Translation (Rus.) Poem by Lyudmila Purgina

By Denis Baramzin

Here the people's speech is hardly heard,
And hardly you can see in the nettle thickets
The wattle fence oblique and the oven broken.
At waste land there is standing a sweep,
As an awkward giant, forlorn, bristling high,
And underneath, in the outlined black square,
The tired wedge of his free-heaven's brothers
Are sliding far outside that edge of wreath.
The sweep is groaning... His time will come
To fly in sky to lands, from which
No one could return back... Will be the last
And only one fly into the bottomless
Space of the black square... And that cry,
The farewell of cranes will then be answered
By the indistinct boom from the inner heart
Of the overgrown well in the forsaken land.

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