Some poems of the last 2022 year

Transitions №7

Author: Anna Golubkova

Translated by the author with the help of Tatiana Bonch-Osmolovskaya

* * *

some prepares to leave
others – to die
neither requires
a large number
of things
a lot was purchased
for the future
stored in the back drawers
sprinkled with powder
against moths
with a special cloth
but no one wants it now
stacks of books
porcelain cups
faded photos
on the other side
you will need

when everybody
to whom
you are attached
you could go out
and breathe
the empty air of freedom
that no one needs

what I feel
a black hole in the place
where there’s supposed
to be at least
some feeling
I feel

* * *

we’ll live without an h&m
we’ll live without a netflix
we’ll live without a storytel
we will live without
new computer programs
and updates of old software
all this is unnecessary
things of a world suffering
from overconsumption
and we will live without europe
we have lived somehow
without it before
and we’ll continue to live
there are pictures
there are videos
stolen pirated movies
stolen pirated books
but all this is also unnecessary
we will live without
variety of goods
in stores and supermarkets
it is also overconsumption
let’s be eco-friendly
don’t need much
food and clothing
we can grow ourselves
potatoes and carrots
in the garden if we have to
you need nothing
you can just watch
the evening sunset
entertain yourself with it
and that will be enough
but you can’t live
remembering the eyes
of a wounded child
you can’t live
remembering the car
with people shot to death
at the start of the war
you can’t live
with the photo
from Mariupol’s maternity ward
always inside your brain
the exchange is not
just and equal

so take away your junk
together with your
powerless values

* * *

June 5, 1997
I got on the Tver-Moscow bus
I had with me one small
yellow bag
with a change of underwear
and a suit for interviews
at that time I had
very few things
and no money at all
there was no work in my hometown
and if there was
they did not pay a salary for it
but for some reason I couldn’t
survive without a salary
I was just an ordinary
economic emigrant
and I went to Moscow
there was no question of finding
a job to my liking
it was necessary to survive
and so I got on the bus
to find a job
for which they would pay

I was sorry to leave
I’ve always loved
my hometown
and probably could
make it better after all
if everyone leaves
who will stay
who will work
write, draw
tell fairy tales
dream and remember
but it so happened
that there was no place
for me in my city
there was no work for me
in my city
there was no space for me
in my city
I was superfluous unnecessary
and in some ways probably
even redundant
you could stay and die
but it was possible to leave
and I left
25 years ago
June 5, 1997


* * *

why I read poems about the war
if they are written by people
who are really safe
war pleasantly tickles their nerves
adds spice to a well-fed, well-off life
coffee with fresh cakes is not
so delicious without war
summer sunsets are not
so beautiful without war
it is not so sweet to sleep
in a soft bed without war
why read poems about the war
if they are written by citizens
of the aggressor country
posing as victims
in the hope of getting rid
of guilt and responsibility
and finally becoming good
full-fledged people
(but they can’t do it, of course)
why read poems about the war
if you are the war itself
if hatred fills
every cell of your body
if there is nothing in you
except hatred and contempt
there is no point
in reading, much less writing
poetry about the war