Saturday, October 1, 2022



Fragment: "Sweet Martyr”


I apparently don't deserve it

neither here nor after the rewards of death

and, weighing the horror lived,

I admit sinful sadness without debate.


Warm rays of love and happiness.

They rarely looked at my destiny.

I tried to light hundreds of lamps in the hall

a dim light came on in the closet.


I dreamed: a faithful husband, a trustworthy life,

to be able to grow old together.

But it didn't work: there was a life partner,

And life with him became the scene of a stormy battle!


The beginning of happiness is a majestic officer:

Captivating, decisive, slim,

heroism an exceptional example,

Illustrious Defender of Port Arthur.


Six months have passed. Cupid threw down his bow,

but escaped our bedroom without looking back

tired of seeing a drunk tyrant

who organizes fights every night.


The battles continued at night.

Covered his body from the torpedo with a pillow,

my husband yelled nasty things to the Japanese,

skillfully combining rude words with delirium.


And in the morning after the nightmares, he was trembling,

drank alcohol with a glass,

and, losing his mind again, put the bottle

And he called me, mistaking me for the captain!


And again - the night, and again my husband

fighting with the Japanese fleet

threw a pillow through the window like a circle,

trying to get someone out of the water!


Seeing deserters behind him,

he destroyed paintings, vases and sculptures! ...

This is how my chosen one lost his mind

Staying under the siege of Port Arthur!


Incorrectable Conservative


He was wise and old

and he did not like innovation.

A. France "Baltasar".


Maybe because of the bad mockery of fate

I approach innovation with fear.

People have been attracted to Lecoq's cancan for a long time,

and I'm pinned to the wall by Bach's organ.


Bright and colorful show.

I can't compare it to a black and white movie,

even a hundred three penny operas

they won't be able to strangle jealous Othello.


Yes, I am an incorrigible conservative,

but, thinking properly, without whims,

Behind the total darkness of the "Black Square"

I see the light with a Mona Lisa smile.


Perhaps in childhood the program failed,

maybe I didn't understand something in life,

but, if there are works by Mandelstam,

How can you call my poems works?




"Those who lived in seclusion lived well"

René Descartes


That he lived in seclusion,

in the deserts, between the rocks,

in the monasteries,

his soul grew closer to God.


That he lived in seclusion,

thus avoiding

humiliation bites

and the poison of lying tongues.


That he lived in seclusion,

and swam calmly, like a sailboat

to the ups and downs

he didn't look.


That he lived in seclusion,

so he realized that life is not entertainment,

and leisure as ash.

He departed in prayer.


That he lived in seclusion,

that masculine passion

and craving for pleasure

it is replaced with meditation.


That he lived in seclusion,

understood nature,

nature does not mean:

bottle and barbecue.


That he lived in seclusion,

did not collect riches

and on the way to salvation

with so little he was happy.


This heroic feat is incomparable.

A hero, who is capable of repeating it!


Translation By: Marlene Pasini, Mexico




ALEXEY KALAKUTIN (October 30, 1973) lives in Nizhny Novgorod, Russia. He is a Russian writer, a philologist. He studied at the Philological Faculty of Nizhny Novgorod State Pedagogical University. His debut publication is "Khokhloma Pattern", 1990 (fairy-tale novel for children) co-authored with E.V. Kalakutin. He is the author of six novels in verse, and and six long and extensive poetic pieces. His poetry has been translated into several languages and have been published in international magazines. He was awarded the 1st degree diploma (PWUR) for high professional skills. International Ambassador for Peace (WLFPH, Bhutan), Honorary Doctorate (IFCH, Morocco), participant in several international poetic anthologies, awarded with certificates of recognition.

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