Birches (Beriozki in Russian)
Tall white birch trees
Straight as arrows
Pierce my heart
Let memory flow
Rustling birch trees
Whisper to me
Sigh me white nights
Endless dawn
Sing me heroes
Sing me sagas
Sing me winters
Bloodied snow
Balalaikas
Strumming softly
Bodies swaying
Voices sweet
Sing beriozski
Sing me summers
Mother’s summers
Motherland
Sing me childhood
Wild north childhood
Endless skies
Wide open, grand.
Oh you birch trees
I’ve abandoned
Forest magic
For a land
Where the sands shift
In the hot wind
Days burn deep
And nights burn black.
When I die here
Sing beriozki
Sing your sad songs
Sing of me.
(First published in Poetica, July 2007) |