Игорь Сукачев, 10.000 км \ Igor Sukachev, 10,000 km (subs by V. Chetin)

Описание

We're divided with ten thousand kilometers,
Platforms, railway stages all the way and rains,
Hoary peaks of silver clouds and flocks of wind gusts...
But I'm going to be back soon, only wait...

Where I'm now, there are old ducks with steamed potatoes,
There are sunflowers, husking into paper cones,
There are frilly fretted windows and bast baskets,
There are local husbands, burning roll-your-owns.

I have spilt myself by tea around a tumbler,
I'm a column in a last day's black-and-white,
I'm a short stop, an emergency brake handler,
I've become the Moon, a forest and wire lines.

We're divided with ten thousand kilometers:
Mornings, platforms, farm houses in the dark...
Only soon a greyish wrapper of a letter
Will deliver me closer to your heart.