Mikhail Kuzmin

As soon as morn came, they were there, face to face,
As soon as morn came, cattle did not yet graze. 

Two carriages came – they had four men to drive,
Two carriages left – taking free men alive.

And only these free heard a falling man’s yell,
And only they saw as the crying man fell.

Has somebody heard what he whispered in grass?
Has somebody seen his ring’s opal, at last?

In morn, herdsmen came to the bridge on that place,
In morn they saw blood in a pool on the earth.

On cold dewy grass – from two carriages’ race,
On cold dewy grass – the bloody trace.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, December, 2000