An Elegy to Olga
From the skies above,
it suddenly came down as a rock
And with a thud its tender neck broke
Before the double headed Eagle with his deadly beaks
Cast in steel of brutality
Could claim it and smother it and mince it
To smithereens,
Like that deadly grenade hurled from nowhere
to the child did
In pink mittens and blue-white bobble hat
Running after her mother in a Kiev Park,
In mirth giggling amongst the pines and the birches and the oaks,
Breathing shallow and uncertain,
their branches and leaves singed with saltpetre,
Where can we hide?
whispers the little girl in bronze braids,
The other sibling, in dread,
“Where can we?”
The sky is full of hawks, swift and merciless
And we, just bones and flesh,
Frail fodder, fish-baits,
Worms and minnows
In bunkers hid, cold and heartless concrete
Gnawed at by the hawks within,
Their sharp eyes and sharper claws are brimful to the hilt,
Where do we play, mama?
Will Olga, red in blood, play with me?
She speaks not, mama.
Or we ought not, if you say?
The Eagle is every where
Cries the mother in grief;
Bury deep in my lap, my Mischa,
and hear a lullaby
Or story of the iron wolf,
The eagle will go away,
and the hawks will too
Shooed by your fearless brother and your mighty papochka
One day.
The Griffin is relentless in pursuit
The pigeon with frightened eyes
Slow and weak.
‘It will go away’, pines the pigeon deep within;
Plumetting suddenly and hitting like a rock
Before his neck broke
On the bunker with muffled sounds and waning hope,
“Sit in my Ark, sit in my lap,
my little darling, be quiet,
Olga is gone to the stars,
she will shine bright
we will watch her at night
The griffins and the hawks
and the evil Eagle
are shredding the shirt of the skies above.”
“Hush, hush, my child,
they will go away
One day.
Olga will always be there among the stars faraway.”
