russia

of plume and feathered fame

A poem by Gavrilla Derzhavin, translated from Russian by John Hamel and Peter Orte.

my lips, and all you’d loved them for

Three poems by Lou Andreas-Salomé, translated by Sofija Popovska

time naive and omnivorous

Three poems by Gleb Shulpyakov, translated by Christopher Mattison

“In the streets of Viy-possessed Kyiv…”

A poem by Osip Mandelstam from The Voronezh Notebooks, translated by John High and Matvei Yankelevich

mouths identical to mine

nothing matters except having clean hands

diabolical laughter off‑stage

a forest-city overruns the parquet floor

the tumbling avalanche of patterns, turn around

to be late for one’s flight

every word may end up being your last word

in New York they have New York, but nothing so beautiful

Every resident of Earth must be represented in close-up

…they move like snowstorms or squalls

…but any clever man is half a crook

A wager, a wager, and an eclipse

And from the sea the Policeman can be seen

Just like the old clown Who crawls across the movie screen