All posts tagged Poetry, поэзия

Could you kindly prescribe me…

Could you kindly prescribe me a med,
One more powerful even than senility,
So that I might entirely forget
That fake tsardom with tales of futurity,
And forget what I’ve read in news media,
And with whom had discussions at length,
What can happen for real in this life, my dear,
And what can’t ever happen till death,
So my world shrinks, all right,to my nearest
And my dearest, and to what is at hand:
While much knowledge is just as much risk, yes,
Little knowledge is peace without end.

Sergey Kutanin, 2016

Translated from the Russian by Philip Nikolayev



Лолита любила не Гумберта.

Немало кругом было рыл.

Набоков негаданно умер-то.

И тайны никто не открыл!


Когда я вверил душу богу,

Он был к заботе не готов.  Continue reading →