Evgeny Vinokurov

When you’re pulling the ring that is usually spared,
And your last parachute is not working at all,
And the endless of woods under you is expanded, -- 
And it’s clear, that none would save you from the fall,

And there’s not such a thing to hang on – not a single –
And there’s nothing to meet in the boundless sky, -- 
Then spread out your arms very wide, like an eagle,
And, embracing expansion, just fly.

There’s nowhere to back to, no time to get balmy,
And the only way out could simply be sought:
First in your own life to behave very calmly,
And to fall coupled with emptiness of world. 


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, April, 2001