Ilya Erenburg

Like a gad-fly, the others’ woe’s:
You’d wave away it – still back it goes,
You’d go out – it’s late to go,
It’s in the air that’s hot and raw.
You’d try to breathe – it strangles you here.
It is possessed – it does not hear,  
It comes… in nights, it cries and moans.
What can I do? – The others’ woe’s.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, May, 2001