Three Poems
Originals by Vsevolod Nekrasov Translated, from the Russian, by Molly Dwyer believe it or not and yet here they are they believed after all they were ordered to верите ли а ведь вот они верили ведь им ведь велели Oh …
Tag: Russian
Two Poems
Originals by Stanislav Lvovsky Translated, from the Russian, by Jacob A. Sackett-Sanders the war ended, not having begun the war ended, not having begun. the apples of nineteen forty one and thirty nine gathered, as intended, lay in the cellar, …
Eight Days of Revolution: A Documentary Journal from Minsk
Original by Artur Klinau Excerpt translated, from the Russian, by Sasha Razor In the corridor, I found my daughter with other prisoners. Two guards accompanied them. The first thing I did was ask Marta how she was doing. It turned …
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Thyx
Original by Gregory Khasin Translated, from the Russian, by Anya Ezhevskaya The thyx is native to the great bushlings of Druzitain, which are prevalent in the Smorga Delta. This animal is a large thyxalia, greenish in coloration. It exhibits two …
An Attempt at Jealousy
Original by Marina Tsvetaeva Translated, from the Russian, by Aster Fialla & Lev Nikulin How could you live with someone new? Easily, huh? One row and – gone! Like a shore that shrinks from view How quick the memory sailed …
“You and Thou”
Translation by Azura FairChild You and Thou How sweet thou art How empty you are She slipped, and made a substitution And all the happy dreams In the soul that is in love, were aroused Before her I stand pensively …
“I’m a man, a man, a man”
Я человек, я человек, я человек Три раза повторив эти слова как мантру Пытаюсь разгадать их тайный бег, Который может быть понятен только сердцу. Я человек, твержу я вновь и вновь А значит я -смятение, Корабль, потерявший гавань берегов Сбив …
Stupid Princess
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful but surprisingly stupid princess, Ira, who had absolutely no idea of what to say and when. For example, when guests gathered at her mom and dad’s palace, stupid Ira would blurt out: …
Are You Happy?
The last four months of my life were spent in the magical Northern city of Saint Petersburg. Everyday, on my way to the metro station nearest my house, I passed this small but useful market — a stark white, concrete …
The ability to pull the trigger
The ceiling above the chair was mirrored; that is why throwing my head back I could see myself fastened by belts, enmeshed by sensors with undulatory emitter cones aimed at my temporal lobe. The cones looked very unpleasant. They were …