Yevgeny Yevtushenko
Epistle to Neruda
Superb, Like a seasoned lion, Neruda buys bread in the shop. He asks for it to be wrapped in paper And solemly puts it under his arm: “Let someone at least think That at
Babi Yar
No monument stands over Babi Yar. A drop sheer as a crude gravestone. I am afraid. Today I am as old in years As all the Jewish people. Now I seem to be a
Memento
Like a reminder of this life Of trams, sun, sparrows, And the flighty uncontrolledness Of streams leaping like thermometers, And because ducks are quacking somewhere Above the crackling of the last, paper-thin ice, And