Валерий Прокошин


You and I will never escape from the Soviet fate:

The Arbat, Lubyanka, the angle of the Kremlin in public...

Passion overtook us at midnight downspouts.


I would paint the black moon, dared all the stars in the bucket,

Jupiter stole corals from Clara — thigh...

No taxi, no gondola,and Peter is closing the subway.


Somewhere music: seems, Yuz Aleshkovsky poet,

On the sixth or fifth Ivan's wife does not...

And we have on the lips of either honey, or poison, or iodine.


I kiss you, I caress you, I'm in you...

And from that gate, the KGB is watching us.

Blow it, Messiah, on the Jericho trumpet.