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.”