Curtains of Spider Webs
Dust-ridden and sooted,
and buttoned up,
looking through the cracked spectacles of its windows,
the attic was said to be very learned…
For a century,
it has read so many useless books.
Mice asking for lodging
called it an altruist.
It was said to be a keen antiquary,
and of course it was,
housing so many old things…
Drafts flew in to help out
with cleaning up.
Curtains of spider webs.
Bugs in the nooks and crannies.
Kids and cats
familiar with its customs
played hide-and-seek with it
when it was getting dark…
Then, exhausted, tired of games,
it dozed away on the roof
half listening to the patter of bare heels
and creaking through its sleep
like a gramps…
In the End
No matter how many times you change your route
or chase new things,
the past betrays all the same, it gives you away
like a tail hanging from under a raincoat.
We fall into this world blind like moles
and bang our heads against the wall of fate.
Everything we screw up
is accounted for, which serves us right…
Someone fills their coffer in private,
someone does it in company,
sinning here and there along the way,
still knowing that you can’t take anything with you.
Temptations make us lose our heads
and never find them again.
But in the end, barefoot and naked,
everyone is sifted through the sieve.
Someone already regrets and prays,
staying up all night.
But in the end, everything will be recalled
even though some things are better to remain as they are – asleep…
Cry or don’t cry,
you can’t erase any blot,
can’t make a fair copy of your life.
So in the end, you’ll have to hand in the first draft.
(translated by Sergey Gerasimov from Russian)
Alena Podobed is an author from Russia. Her most recent poems have appeared Hawaiʻi Review, Curating Alexandria,The Paragon Press, Metafore Magazine, Spectrum Literary Journal, and MEOW MEOW POW POWLIT.
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