V. Korchagin

To graves – to sacred stone and to cross –
I bear my sorrow by track that’s heavy settled.
Let it be fight! I’ll save my sacred hosts,
And if – give up,
Then take them back in battle. 
But in the future, where all dark’s dispersed,
Not for the coffins, we will plane white boards,
But for banduras,
On which Life itself
Will tune the strings for people happy roads –
For men to whom all suns send their bliss!
Tho’ in the world such men are still not grown, -
For their songs, for music – we have keys:
Just those crosses
And these graveyard’s stones.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, July, 2001