For The Cry – Irina Ratushinskaya

For the cry from the well of ‘mama!’
For the crucifix torn from the wall,
for the lie of your ‘telegrams’
when there’s an order for an arrest–
i will dream of you, Russia.
In the accursedness of your victories,
in the anguish of your impotence,
in the nausea of your hangover–
why will fear break through?
All has been mourned, all have been sung to rest–
who will you flinch from all of a sudden?
Though you’ll deny it, take refuge in illusion,
put all the blame on those who have been killed–
i will still come and stand before you
and look into your eyes.

For The Cry – Irina Ratushinskaya


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