A balalaika on the roof burns my soul
with the echo of distant steppes .
A bird of fire flies across the steel sky ,
snow coat has a strange melancholy face...
Friend ,once again the battle calls !
I love this low melody that rises
from an oriental dawn ,daughter of winter !
The strenght of rough waters warms
iron -stone souls and fearless hearts !
Friends ,the songs draw you towards the infinite
which has the face of unreachable love ...
I feel the breath of this tragedy
on the road to Novgorod ...
Father,mother ,brothers and sweet spouse,
flesh and blood tribe,all will take you in their arms !
Friend , coming back from the hateful west
at the setting of the black sun ...
You'll push open the isba door ,
the samovar of the ancient burning your body ,
you'll rediscover the glorious legends of childhood ...
On the river pass the silent boatmen, in the land
where every day is a prayer,every hour a sacrifice ...
friend,holy warrior of eternity ,
you will rest for ever
in the mother earth sweetness
far away, on the road to Novgorod ...
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Author:
lorenz (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 6th, 2024 02:19
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 22
- Users favorite of this poem: Ellen Marsell
Offline)
Comments5
Every knee shall bow...
Every bee shall buzz...
The birds will eat their flesh...
Excellent
Thanks tony !
You're welcome
The melancholic tone, rich imagery, all combine a deep personal journey with a broader history and the spirit of the land. Excellent!
Inspired by the ballad of the soldier .A soviet film by Grigoryi Chukhray(1959)
One of the greatest movies ever. Thank you!
OK now I have to find Novgorod and at least pretend to visit it. Nice work.
Russia's oldest new city !
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