rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Oh, Vladimir! I was only kidding! Don't shoot!

Hail, Comrades!

And up yours, 6A! I knew you'd soon bail!

Srsly. The comedy never stops in this place. :P



Anyway. A day at last entirely gray, and now and then (toward evening) what felt like a tiny drop of rain. Mostly though the day was spent in looking after old people who aren't feeling well.





Sunday Verse for our new Russian Overlords

Horses in the Ocean

—To Ilya Ehrenburg

by Boris Slutsky



Horses know how to swim,
But not so well. Not too far.
In Russian, "Gloria" means "Slava."
That you can easily remember.
The ship sailed on, proud of its name.
The ocean tried to get the better of it.
In the hold, shaking their good heads,
A thousand horses trampled day and night.
A thousand horses! Four thousand hooves!
All the same they brought no luck,
A mine ripped out the bottom of the ship
when it was a long way from the shore.
The men piled into boats and sloops.
The horses could only swim.
What else could they do when there was no room
For them in the boats and on the rafts?
An island of bays was swimming in the ocean.
In the sea, the blue sea, swam an island of grays.
To swim seemed simple in the beginning.
To them the ocean seemed a river.
But it was a river that had no bank in sight.
When their equine strength was failing,
The horses suddenly began to neigh, protesting
Against those who were drowning them in the ocean.
The horses sank to the bottom, neighing, neighing.
Until they had all gone down.
That is all. Nevertheless, I pity them,
Those bay horses, that never saw the land again.


—translated by George Reavey
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