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Wanja-san

Wanja-san


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www.stihi.ru/poems/2000/12/19-102.html


Stormy relationship,
Drawn to each other,
Like grime and soap.


Hayloft rest,
Beneath Man'ka, tne cow,
Chewing my dreams


Abandoned village,
Hobgoblins took to the woods,
Turning into woodgoblins.


Coming train
Moscow-Tomsk, car 7
My motherland.


When I feel bad,
I read PHYSICS again
Nothing else.


Old age roaming
In hallways of memory
Blowing out the faces.


How are you, granddad?
OK, still alive.
Call me, if something, you know


For grandson's joy
Professor has brought the fir-tree
Quotation of woods.


Tap water running
Storm, seagull cries,
Rowlocks creak, SOS!


Recalling
Little Bashmet,
His neighbours weep


Snowflakes are falling
Touching each other,
They might be jingling...


Leaves fall in the woods,
So many trees
Crooked.


Cut tree,
Counting rings on its stump
My age!


Autumn wind
Mountain ash against the fence
Beaten to blood.


I lie on the Russian stove,
Looking again through the Atlas of the World:
Was everywhere already...


Life is over
The Pythagorean theorem
Has not been put to use.


I feel bad, babushka,
If God only help me...
Oh, yeah! He's rushing.


Entering woods in the morning
Birds chirp around me
With hostility


The doggy is crying,
The neighbours at their gates
Say he was.


Okey-dokey!
I have got everything in my house:
Flour, matches, salt...


Spring day
Among the blooming apple trees
So cold...


Somebody sits there,
He cuts eternity in pieces:
This one is for you


We got some words
Each one is like a novel:
Divorce, feat, homeless


In my basement
We are inseparable
Bacillus of Koch


Hospital chamber,
The faces of loved ones
In cracks of the ceiling


Knives get dull,
The axis of the Earth starts to creak...
Time to call trouble-shooter Petrovich!


Old age
So many folds in my brain
Losing my thought!

translated by Wanja-san, Zinovy Vayman

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