Слободкина Ольга
This tree is still crying

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  • © Copyright Слободкина Ольга (olga_slobodkina@mail.ru)
  • Размещен: 07/11/2021, изменен: 08/01/2023. 3k. Статистика.
  • Стихотворение: Поэзия

  • This tree is still crying with tar ...
      Although long it has served
    for a window -
     as a frame
    on a big old veranda ...
    It still cries
      remembering those happy green years
     when it was blissfully growing 
     with other young trees
      in a fary-tale forest,
    their branches going to Heaven
      and singing
    Hymns of the Beatitudes to it ...
    It still cries,
     'cause the veranda is gone,
       there's no house either ...
    And those who inhabited it
     are already - in Heaven ...
    It still cries 
     for the children
     who were expelled,
    when their grandparents died,
     those who had built that great house... 
      It's still crying 
        for it remembers that house,
    a permanent bulwark of love and reliance ...
    It still cries
    things that will never come back ...
      That veranda, the blinds -
    they could fold
      if you pulled on the thread ...
    The rocking  arm chair
      where the children could sway
    running away from the piano
      when they were tired of playing the scales.
    Remembers the furniture -
      a neat-handed master had made it
    using thin straw.
     Remembers the carved sideboards, chests of draws
    and diamond-shaped casement glass bookcases,
     when books were still dear ...
      Remembers those tablecloths and curtains
    that the little girl's grandmother embroidered in satin-stitch ...
    Granny, where are you, dear?
       You know that your daughter, your first elder daughter,
    threw the little girl out 
      when her father had perished,
    her father, your baby, your dear younger son?
     She wanted to keep the whole house for herself ...
    But ... it didn't pan out ...
    The house was pulled down by the city
    and spreading that far...
    What has remained?
       Only the memory ...
    It's the memory that is still crying with tar ...
      And the tar's getting frozen
    and no longer rolls down like a tear,
      but turns
    all the memories into a ball of magic
      saving everything ...
    Nobody will understand
     except for Heaven,
    if only those children
      that were expelled,
    will write a novel
      called "House" or "Home" ...
    Who will live in this house and home
     in the Perfect Invisible World?
    November 7, 2021
                                          *          *           *
    Again I return to this house,
      which is no longer ...
    I come back as that happy little girl -
      she doesn't even know 
    what is in store for her ...
    But Time can't be stopped...
    Time didn't freeze 
      when those who had built that miraculous house were gone...
    Time didn't freeze 
      when the aunt
       kicked the little girl out,
    the daughter
     of her deceased
    younger brother -
      she was only eleven years old ...
    Time did not freeze
      when that house was torn into pieces ...
    Time will never be frozen -
      just onward and on.
    But ...
    there is no Time, 
       only Perfection and Joy,
    we shall live in that House of Timeless Holiness ...
    There we'll have celebrations -
      all the slain ones
    all the unborn,
      all the deprived,
    all the hurt,
      all the kind ones ...
    There'll be Love
      that we didn't know on the Earth...
    There'll be Peace...
    Whatever we dreamed about here,
     whoever we loved -
      all will be There...
    And the tears won't roll down the tree like some resin,
      down the tree that was cut
     and served as a window frame 
    on that big old veranda ...
    The tears will stay on the Earth
      freezing into transparent amber of my memory ...
    November 7, 2021
    My poem translated into English by me

  • © Copyright Слободкина Ольга (olga_slobodkina@mail.ru)
  • Обновлено: 08/01/2023. 3k. Статистика.
  • Стихотворение: Поэзия

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