Bulat Okudjava

They bottomless – deeps of the love of each mother,
Therefore this love’s highly praised.
But, a she-bear loves her children, rather, --
Her silly and clumsy cubs.

Bright is the loving hearts’ clear fire,
And sore is the parting wind.
But he-dove, too, falls in sadness, entire,
Losing his girl-friend behind.

But, such a love is in men’ hearts boiling
Which nature’s not able to rise:
It is the light of the motherland’s calling –
The light of the parental hearth.

No, not the blood or instinct, wild and bared,
Drove men to these heights above.
Long was the way of the kids of the planet
In search for this crystal love…


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, July, 2001