“L’ultime poubelle”
Tuesday, 22 April 2008 | 7:26
The news was black:
that there was no home land left,
as if there were no cherries in October,
when the darkness outside
decides the heart is an axe
that will heat the shivering house,
but the logs don’t obey the axe
and howl at the moon.
The news burned into our souls,
there is no home land left,
the rippling waves of the Aral sea in dead ooze,
Gritsko is silent in the Ukraine,
and the North, that frozen swan,
has flowed out onto the shelterless waves,
notifying the ships
that there is no home land left.
Nikolai Kluyev, excerpt from There Is No Land Left (1930)
