Transitions №3

Author: Natalia Osipova

Translated by Mark Wingrave

 
* * *

with the days my shadow is erased
only in a gallery between the paintings
do I see it sometimes

 
* * *

in childhood you somehow learn
that the question ‘what’s it like to be’
shouldn’t be asked

 
* * *

I often remember
when people complain
they don’t have a life
or they haven’t had a chance to live
I recall
Adam and Eve
did not go against what was forbidden
and did not taste the fruit
from the Tree of Life

 
* * *

quiet morning rain
stray dogs sleep
warm themselves on the road

 
* * *

on roller blades rushing past the Iveron Icon
an elderly grey-haired woman
crosses and crosses and crosses herself

 
* * *

nearing the end of his days
Narcissus fell in love with
his shadow

 
* * *

tree why are you waving your branches
like something is wrong with you
it isn’t there with you it’s here with me

 
* * *

the school steps are
curved
like the Yalta tide
on the first landing
a three meter statue of Lenin
between the high windows
the street behind them
running up impulsively to the third floor
there
where the small door leads to the loft
secured by a large padlock
sit down
on the steps
while
below
on the stairs like angels
ascend and descend
classmates and teachers
some favourites
some no longer alive

 
* * *

from beneath the red eyelid
of a neon sign
afflicted by a tick
it is chilling now
to look in the window
of a former
dream home
but in the dank air
beneath the wild cherry
there is still something
of the optimism
of the international brigade
of the 1930s
still something
of the confidence
of the 1950s
it remains in the air
around the flowering apple trees
but that was before my time

 
* * *

in the morning the sparrows start to sing
all day water
carefully drips into the sink
persistently hitting the high B-flat
as evening approached exploding firecrackers
startled the car alarms
in the neighbours’ yards
and the whole place became a howling quacking
yapping song